The Choices There To Be Made
by MorganBonny
Summary: Elizabeth had made her choice in Will. But when a reckless decision brings James Norrington back into her life and her love, James is thrown into a world of indecision, Rum and piracy, waiting on her final choice. AWE/AU WIP: PLEASE BE PATIENT
1. Chapter 1 The World We Came From

The Choices There To Be Made

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such. I am only a fanfiction writer. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

Chapter One

The World We Came From

"The Captain shall have my quarters." Elizabeth looked like she was going to argue so Norrington shot her a pleading expression. She could not be difficult on this. Jones was watching them with passing curiosity and Norrington wondered how much he knew.

Elizabeth drew herself up and opened her mouth, preparing for some cold remark, but then her face softened and she nodded stiffly.

The crewmen were swiftly packed off to the brig, but Norrington had eyes for no one but Elizabeth. She held her head high and walked with great dignity beside him across the bloody deck, allowing no one's scrutiny, permitting no one's scorn. Her time as a pirate had certainly taught her a few things, but had done nothing to diminish the porcelain of her skin or the graceful lift of her eyes.

Norrington dismissed such traitorous thoughts and held the door open for her. Elizabeth stalked through lithely and sat in the only chair, an uncomfortable wooden one due for kindling that had left deep gouges in the floor where its' occupant had skidded across the boards. Norrington closed and locked the door and turned to face her.

"I'd rather it remain unlocked," Elizabeth declared grandly. Norrington gazed at her, hurt, but unsurprised and reached for the lock.

Elizabeth blushed, seeming ashamed, and shook her head, her queenly demeanor slipping. "No, never mind, perhaps it's best..."

Norrington shrugged helplessly and sat on the bed facing her. "Whatever is best for you, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth smiled wanly. "That's not very likely, is it?"

Norrington smiled back. "No, not really." The smile faded. "I didn't expect...", he waved a hand at her strange attire, "this. And I swear to you, I did not know about your father."

Elizabeth nodded, twining some odd necklace through her fingers, seeming suddenly vulnerable. Norrington struggled to suppress his emotions before they appeared on his face. Elizabeth had made her choice quite clear. Perhaps he didn't do quite as good a job as he hoped, because when Elizabeth met his eyes, hers were wistful.

"To be honest, I didn't expect this either."

"Then what-?"

"Sao Feng. He's made me Captain and one of the nine Pirate Lords."

"Why?" He realized that sounded rude and hastily amended, "Not that you, I mean-"

Elizabeth bit her lip, fiddling with the necklace in her fingers. "Sao Feng is dead. He appointed me as his successor."

"But why were you aboard _The Empress_ and not the _Pearl_?" He realized he was leaning forward unconsciously and corrected his posture.

"More double crossings. I was traded to Sao Feng for _The Black Pearl_."

Norrington's eyebrows nearly rose off his face in concern. Elizabeth shook her head.

"He thinks me the sea-goddess Calypso in human form, thus the attire."

Norrington was not assured. "Are you alright?" He bent forward and took her hand, delighting in the soft warmth of her palm and disciplining himself not to.

"I'm fine, thank you, James."

Norrington ignored the shiver that went through him when she said his name and frowned. "Calypso in human form?"

"The first Brethren Court bound her so they could control the seas. Barbossa intends to free her. Sao Feng mistakenly believes I am she."

Norrington attempted to understand this, before deciding it didn't really matter. He cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth." He looked away at the far wall. "I don't expect forgiveness, but I-I am sorry. None of this mess was ever my idea. I can't be a pirate like you." He glanced back to see Elizabeth watching his wry smile with concern.

"My station is all I've ever had. If-if things had been different, I might have had...more, but the Navy is all I've ever known. I didn't make a very good pirate."

Elizabeth frowned, a small line creasing her forehead. "You could have been a fine pirate, James, but what would we do if all our honorable men turned pirate?"

"And our women too?"

Elizabeth smiled at that.

"Though you look very beautiful and very dangerous. Pirate captaincy suits you." Norrington tried to keep impartiality in his voice.

"Thank you," Elizabeth murmured, leaning back in her chair, her hand sliding from his.

It was very hot. Norrington wiped sweat off of his face and sighed. "Do you care if I off this murderous coat?"

Elizabeth laughed. "I've seen you drunk in the mud, James, I don't really think it's an issue."

Norrington shook his head, and standing, unbuttoned his coat, hung it on the wall, and sat back down in his white button-up shirt. "That's not something I'm proud of."

"Be glad Jones didn't take an interest in you." He said to change the subject.

"Yes, that surprised me. I am the Captain after all. Was that due to your orders?"

Norrington studied the wall behind her head. "I assume so. I am the Captain of the ship and an Admiral, after all. Perhaps it is only because he knows who you are."

"What has that to do with it?"

Norrington looked uncomfortable. "You and...Turner. If the legends are more than so much nonsense, Jones understands that more than most."

Elizabeth seemed surprised and at first Norrington attributed that to what he'd said. But when she scooted closer and held his hand, her eyes sympathetic and sad, he realized that Elizabeth was seeing how much he still cared for her.

Loneliness swept through her eyes and fear.

"I haven't a clue what I'm doing," she admitted in a whisper, defeated. "I'm not ready to be a Captain, I'm not ready for any of this. Will...won't talk to me, and...oh, I don't know, I just wish none of this were happening."

All the things Norrington had been working to discard came rushing back, and he clutched her hand. "It'll be alright," he assured, though he hardly believed it himself. "I'll get you out of this, I promise, you'll not be Beckett's prisoner. And then you'll make it work, I know you. Pirates have an amazing resilience to such things."

"You never stopped loving me," Elizabeth whispered, "Did you, James? While I've been off chasing pirates across the Caribbean and scorning you again and again, you never gave up, really, did you?"

"Giving up and ceasing to love you are not the same thing. You belong to Will Turner."

Elizabeth said nothing, merely continuing to stare at him with wide eyes.

"You made a choice!" Norrington suddenly spouted, "Stop this! Stop playing with me!" His hands shook in hers and he glared at the floor, embarrassed by his outburst.

"I'm not playing with you, James," Elizabeth murmured, "I'm sorry that it wasn't meant to be."

"It was," Norrington said in a low voice. "In the world we came from, it was. But we're not in that world anymore. We're in a world of monsters and ghosts, Elizabeth, and you're not mine and I can't allow myself to imagine that you are. Please don't make it harder for me." He stood up, determinedly not looking at her. "I'll get a spare hammock for myself. I hope you are not opposed to sharing quarters with me."

Suddenly, Elizabeth was on her feet and her arms were around him. She hugged him fiercely, repeating, "I'm sorry, I do care for you, James, I do, it's just-" Norrington's arms came around her, his hands against the faint jut of her shoulder blades, her head bowed against his chest. There really was no excuse for his actions, but James lifted her head with one hand and kissed her. Her lips were smooth and soft, and, while she didn't exactly respond, her tongue touched against his lightly, her breath brushing against his cheek. Norrington stepped back, eyes wide, his chest heaving. "I'm-I'm sor-sorry, Elizabeth, I-"

Elizabeth's mouth was open, her eyes perfect crystal mirrors. Something vivid flashed across her face and she closed the space between them in a single movement. Norrington's hands moved to her shoulders, swallowing his words loudly in the silence. Elizabeth brought her slender hands to his gasping chest, gazing up at him with unsure eyes.

"You-you-" panted Norrington in incoherent disbelief. Elizabeth locked his lips in a kiss, effectively silencing him. He kissed her back, mouths moving fluidly against each other, one hand coming up to stroke her face. He pulled her closer with the other arm, panting, his brain in chaos. This was wrong, he knew that somewhere in his head, but he couldn't recall why. He loved her and he wanted her and that was all that mattered. Instincts were guiding him, beyond any Admiral control, beyond any reason. He pushed his body closer to hers, disregarding the fuzzy warnings in his head. The last logical thoughts of Admiral Norrington vanished when Elizabeth's fumbling fingers pushed aside the first button on his shirt.

There had only been one time when she had been this close, when Jack had shoved her at him, dripping wet and she had clutched at him compulsively as he grabbed her reflexively. The thought lifted some sound he didn't recognize from his mouth, and he pressed her closer, freeing her hair from its' bonds and letting it cascade over her shoulders.

Her jacket fell to the floor as he stood bare chested in the dull lantern light and there was no going back. The crimson silk of her dress slid against his chest and he slipped his hands under the shirt beneath, hands trembling against her smooth stomach. He held her as she freed herself from her dress, the alarms in his head completely buried by the feel of this woman's body against his, his heart thudding loudly beneath his ribs. He shook mentally and physically as he pulled her shirt over her head, gasping, his boots kicked across the room. This wasn't possible and yet it was. Her lips found his again as soon as they were shy of the shirt, intense, white-hot, desperate, her eyes closed, the long lashes perfect against her pale cheek. Sounds Norrington wasn't aware he could make were coming from his throat, his thumbs pressed against Elizabeth's temples, every inch of his skin alive with electricity, feeling Elizabeth's contours against his.

* * *

Norrington's only thought as the last of their clothes fell to the floor was, _How the hell am I going to find the bed?_


	2. Chapter 2 Destinies, Dreams and Murders

Elspeth Morgan_The Choices There To Be Made_

The Choices There To Be Made

(formerly 'Best Mistake I Ever Made')

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such. I am only a fanfiction writer. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

Chapter Two

Destinies, Dreams and Murders

Norrington woke Elizabeth by brushing his knuckles down her cheek. She twitched in her sleep and opened her eyes. Norrington was standing over her, fully dressed, if somewhat sloppily, in his uniform. She sat up, confused, and blinked at him.

"We have to hurry, there isn't much time!" He blurted hurriedly, a great tenderness in his voice.

"What's going on?"

Norrington was making a great effort to keep his eyes on her face and away from her naked body. "We have to get you and your crew back to your ship. It's almost dawn."

Panic crossed Elizabeth's face. "And what of you?"

"I have to stay."

"No, James! They'll kill you! You have to come with me!"

"So you can watch Turner kill me?"

"Will doesn't have to know!"

Norrington's voice was very subdued. "You think he won't know? On your wedding night?"

"It was a mistake!" Elizabeth cried.

"Best one I ever made," Norrington breathed. "Do you know how long I've dreamed of that? Though, in my dreams, you were my wife and we had the whole night." His eyes were sad. "I won't say that wasn't meant to happen, Elizabeth." He savored the name a moment. "It wasn't my fault or yours, but I have to stay. Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth, but never joined. This changes nothing. I don't fit in your world, nor am I your choice. I will stay." He had planned this while she slept, orchestrating carefully his exact words.

"No, James! I can't leave you to die..."

"Who said anything about dying?"

"They'll know, James."

"Perhaps." His tone was calm, but the horror in Elizabeth's eyes was echoed in his own soul. How could he let her leave? Not Elizabeth, not his love. Not when his dreams had been brought from the dead and lain in front of him. She couldn't go back to Turner, not now...

Elizabeth slid from the bed and grabbed his collar with both hands. "James, please..."

Norrington put his arms around her bare back, losing his grip on control. She reached up to kiss him and his heart-rate spiked, his breathing ragged. He averted his head, taking deep, calming breaths.

"Elizabeth, please, you must go."

"I love you, James."

Norrington's heart stopped, his breath stuttering to a stop. She loved him.

"Not like Will," Elizabeth amended, "there is nothing in the world like that, but I love you and if Will weren't- if they killed you...Please, come with me."

Norrington hesitated. He knew he was second-best, but then, he'd always known that. If he stayed, he lost the only thing he'd ever truly cared about. If he went...well, that was up to fate.

"James, if Will kills Davy Jones, he has to take his place!"

Norrington froze, gazing down at the beautiful woman in his arms.

"Ferrying souls, his heart in the chest! He'll only be able to come ashore once every ten years! I don't know if I can bear that!"

Norrington stared at her, thinking. Having an affair with the wife of the undead lord of the sea while he was off ferrying souls was exactly the sort of thing a pirate would do. Wasn't that why Davy Jones cut out his heart in the first place? But he wasn't a pirate, he was an honorable man and a Navy Admiral, irregardless of his sins, and he wasn't going to plan to cross what would soon be a pledged marriage, Will Turner and his faith in his wife.

"I can't help you with that," he murmured, taking her wrists and guiding her hands gently away from his collar. "As a friend, yes, as what you are suggesting, no. I'll come with you, Elizabeth, but I- you already made your choice, remember that. You said it yourself: it was a mistake." He stepped back. "Get dressed, we have to hurry."

"Thank you, James!"

* * *

Norrington did not reply. This was getting both worse and better by the second. _Dreams_, he rued, _are like murders: they always come back to get you._

2


	3. Chapter 3 To Be James Norrington

Elspeth Morgan_The Choices There To Be Made_

The Choices There To Be Made

(formerly 'Best Mistake I Ever Made')

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such. I am only a fanfiction writer. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

Chapter Three

To Be James Norrington

Tai Huang lifted an eyebrow when Elizabeth came cat-stepping past the rows of cells with Norrington, her hair a wild tangle, his shirt only half-tucked in, but neither he nor the crew made any further comment on their rather telling appearance. As soon as the door was unlocked, the crew filed quickly and silently past, following Norrington, with Elizabeth bringing up the rear. They slipped down the narrow walkways of the ship, pressed against the salt-warped hull, to the stern. Tai Huang tossed the grappling hook Norrington had given him a few times and the first of the crew set off into the darkness. They waited breathlessly until a pair of carefully concealed lanterns flashed twice. "Go!" Elizabeth urged. The men began shimmying down the thin rope fearlessly, used to such perilous drops, while Elizabeth's foot tapped impatiently. The last of the men were swinging onto the rope when-

"Who goes there?"

Norrington pulled Elizabeth behind him, his sword flying from its' sheath with a faint metallic ring, his eyes flickering about. "Go!" He ordered, "I will follow."

Elizabeth stared at him. "You're lying! James, come on!"

James' dark eyes swiveled back to hers. "I swear to you, Elizabeth, I will follow! Go! Now!"

"I take your word," Elizabeth promised, and, stretching tall, kissed him quickly and darted away. She swung up onto the rope and Norrington lunged after her.

Bootstrap Bill came out of the darkness like a spectre, the starfish clinging to his face like a scarred tattoo.

"Back to your station, sailor," Norrington commanded, settling into a fighting posture, his left arm steady and centered level with Bootstrap's chest.

"No one leaves the ship," protested Bootstrap in a dead voice.

"Stand down! That's an order!" There was a trace of worry in Norrington's voice; the man should have been bound to obey him.

"That's an order..." Bootstrap mumbled dazedly, "Part of the ship, part of the crew, part of the ship, part of the crew..." His voice got progressively louder.

"Steady, man!" Norrington ordered. He didn't see how he was going to get out of this.

"...part of the ship, part of the crew! Part of the ship, part of the crew! All hands, prisoner escape!"

"Belay that!" Norrington roared, unafraid of the sword in the man's hand, tugging a pistol out of his coat.

"James!" Elizabeth cried, struggling on the rope, her eyes wide and fearful. James glanced back at her frightened gaze, afraid for her, afraid to leave, afraid to stay, afraid to look away from her brilliant eyes. She was pulling herself back the other way, towards him, and alarm shot through him. All of this was for her. Bootstrap was distracted by her call, but his eyes came back, met Norrington's, his hand moving forward...

Norrington took a running jump and threw himself off of the vessel, sword flailing wildly in his hand. He felt the blade connect with the tough fibers and Elizabeth's scream, but he was falling through salty blackness swiftly, a startled sound rising in his chest, fear grabbing at him.

The water smacked him hard. The air flew from his lungs, the chill shocking him, and he went under. For a moment, all was thrashing waves and rushing bubbles, then his head broke the surface and he gasped, sucking in a mouthful of seawater. Choking, he fought the waves, trying to see where he was. Lights glimmered high above the next swell; he presumed they were the _Dutchman_'s. He heard Elizabeth shouting and he yelled her name out over the tossing water. Another wave pushed him under and he fought to surface.

"Elizabeth!"

He could barely keep his head above water in these swells. He kicked out of his boots, tossing aside the pistol and shrugged off the heavy coat. The sword he kept, though it weighed him down, twisting in his hand against the water. A bullet whirred past him and he flinched. Men were shouting on both sides of him; which were the ones he wanted? He struggled above the waves and listened. There, that was Jones' voice and that on the other side sounded like Chinese. He kicked out for the Chinese voices one-armed and collided with a line across his middle. It was the grappling rope he'd cut with his wild swing. He hauled himself along it, the cold sapping his muscles and chattering his teeth. The voices grew louder, Elizabeth's among them. Norrington thought he was going to faint with relief.

"Elizabeth?" he called, his voice weaker than he would have liked.

"Oh my God, James! Haul him up, now!"

An unfamiliar voice deferred, "Aye, Captain," and Norrington felt the rope he held tauten against his weight. He slumped, cold and exhausted, and let them haul him aboard. When he landed on the deck, he gazed up blearily, as Elizabeth came running, her hair soaked and dripping down her neck. She threw her arms around him.

"Oh God! James, are you alright?"

Her concern melted away his fatigue and he smiled. "I'm fine."

"I think the sea washed away your Admiralty," Elizabeth giggled, stepping away and looking him over.

Norrington glanced down. Not only was he soaked, but he was also barefoot, coatless, and holding a sword, not to mention the fact that he'd lost his wig and hat and his dark hair was now plastered all over his forehead.

"Considering the company I keep, maybe that's a good thing." He sheathed the sword and climbed to his feet. Elizabeth hugged him again swiftly and dashed off across the ship, screaming orders. The ship burst into motion as, behind them, fighting broke out aboard the _Dutchman_. Norrington heard a man scream and the ring of metal against metal. He shivered and, wanting to know what was happening, pulled himself up the ratlines and clung one-handed to the shrouds below the mizzen top.

A battle of sorts was taking place, with men running in and out of the lantern light yelling. They were well under way by this time, taking advantage of the _Dutchman'_s disorder, but Norrington lingered on the shrouds, enjoying the cool air sweeping past his face, chilling his drying hair.

It wasn't often he got to stand like this and watch the sky. This was what he had loved about his time sans Navy. There was a thrill to being no better or worse than the men around you, where the respect in their eyes was put there by your actions and your sweat, not your stripes and uniforms. Respect felt better when you knew you had earned it. And now it seemed he would never be going back to that life again. The loss was striking and yet, some part of him was relieved. Certainly, being out of Beckett's grasp gave a new definition to freedom, but there was an excitement to it as well, a joyful feeling he had felt little of since gaining Leftenant God knows how many years ago. He was free.

Norrington stood enjoying this fact for a long time. It had been too long since he'd felt the ropes beneath his feet. It was too easy as an officer to forget why he had gone to sea, what had drawn him there. Military orders never spoke of the distinct shade of sulky sky before a storm, or the grumble of the ship timbers speaking to each other in the dark. He had forgotten the apprehension of being a foremast jack, reading the sky with a furrowed brow, praying the Sea, his lady, his lover, his queen, would be merciful, muttering prayers should she prove not, spinning tales against the velvet sky and running barefoot and shirtless along the lines in the moonlight when the water sparkled silver. How had he let himself forget that, too caught up in the formalities of station?

Maybe that was what pirates were, he mused, men who never lost that first wonder of the sea, their initial fascination with her secrets. Because there wasn't a man alive more free than Jack Sparrow, nor a man who danced smoother with ships, sang to them with his movements, almost, though he hated to admit it, even to himself.

Norrington shook his head, almost envying him that. He closed his eyes and let the salt spray wash over his eyelids. He was not an Admiral or a Navyman or a Brit at that moment. He was a very small man named James, one of thousands who had lived and breathed to worship the sea. He was a devotee and his praise was the deep, slow swish of his lungs as he breathed the stark air, the flutter of his eyelids, the smile on his face, the flexing of the muscles in his arm as the ship rolled and he corrected his balance. He would never go back. To the Navy, perhaps, but never to the commanding squabble of power and advancement. Well, no, he could never go back to the Navy, could he? There would be a price to pay for tonight's actions. But, no, he'd rather be a foremast jack on a pirate than live that life again anyway. He wanted to see stars at night. He wanted to feel the wind in his hair. He wanted to be James Norrington.

But part of James Norrington was his love for Elizabeth Swann. Elation surged through him, setting his muscles to trembling. There was nothing that could destroy the power of the words, "I love you, James." Nothing she ever said or did could take that back from her perfect lips. Yes, she loved Will Turner, and no, she hadn't chosen him, but she loved him just the same and there was no death he would not face to hear those words again.

His thoughts turned to last night and the miracle that had been, the memories of which had been drifting randomly through his head, colored with emotion. He closed his eyes and groaned softly. He didn't want to emerge from this dream or face the reality that it was nothing more than a mistake and could never be repeated. He didn't like to think of it that way; as a mistake. It had been nothing less than the best moment of his life and it hurt to know, deep down, that Elizabeth didn't feel the same way and that it was merely a product of poor self-control.

"James?"

Norrington started, his eyes flying open. Elizabeth stood below him, gazing up.

"May I join you?"

"Of course." Norrington scrambled sideways along the thin ropes and hauled himself up onto the top. Elizabeth climbed swiftly and seated herself dexterously alongside him on the small wooden platform.

There was a long silence before Norrington suddenly asked, skirting the true topic of discussion in favor of an easier, more relevant one, "We are bound for Shipwreck Cove?"

"Yes."

"That may not be wise. Beckett knows of the meeting of the brethren. I fear there may be a traitor among them."

"We have no choice, James. I am one of the nine pirate lords now and a keeper of one of the charms required to free Calypso. I have to attend or nothing can be decided. They are our only hope."

"Even still…" Norrington sighed. "Our only hope is a court of pirates. Tell me that doesn't sound grim."

Elizabeth nodded glumly. "Not that grim news or traitors are anything new," she said softly.

Norrington looked at her.

"Will betrayed us to Beckett and Sao Feng," Elizabeth replied in response to the question in Norrington's eyes. "Just 'good business', I suppose," she added bitterly.

"I see." Norrington felt sympathy for her, but spared none for Turner. Bootstrap Bill's son could fight his own battles.

"He should have told me, I had the right to know. How can he expect me to trust him when he keeps…?" She trailed away, realizing what she was saying, and Norrington fancied he saw her look away, as though she did not want to speak of Turner and face him at the same time.

Norrington said nothing. It was not his place nor would Elizabeth like what he had to say.

She turned to him suddenly, her eyes shining with what Norrington realized were tears. "I'm sorry, James," she whispered, "I never should have put you through this. I've made it all a thousand times worse."

Norrington reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek. "I've never regretted a minute I spent with you, Elizabeth."

"Last night-"

"-wants no explanation."

"It shouldn't have happened."

Norrington did not respond, gazing out over the dark waters.

"What will I say?" she whispered.

"The truth," Norrington replied. "He deserves nothing less."

"You're being too noble about this; I don't understand."

Norrington lifted her chin with one hand and angled her face until he was looking her in the eye. "You're not mine, Elizabeth."

"What if I was?" Elizabeth asked, shifting closer to him.

Norrington did not meet her eyes, acutely aware of how close she was.

"There is nothing that would make me happier."

"What if it _was_ meant to be, James?"

Thoughts exploded in Norrington's head. What was she suggesting? That she chose him? That it was a should-have-been-but-isn't?

"I don't understand, Miss Swann." It was all he could manage.

"I love you," she whispered, "even more so now. I don't know if I _can_ leave you. Maybe it was meant to be, before all this happened. And I want you to know that it wasn't your fault, at all, James. Don't feel guilty."

Norrington looked at her, at her wide beautiful eyes, the fine blonde hair that straggled about her pale face, and brought his hand up to stroke her cheek. Elizabeth smiled, lifting her head and leaning into the gesture. Their faces were perhaps five inches apart and Norrington could see every detail of her perfect features by the light of the top lanterns, blurring into memories of last night. He closed his eyes and exhaled, drawing back a little.

"Elizabeth," he whispered hoarsely, "I am not so abstemious as to deny this. Please," he begged, "it was a mistake."

"No," Elizabeth breathed, and he felt her lean closer, felt her breath against his eyelids. "No, it wasn't."

He opened his eyes to find her long lashes almost touching his, the warmth from her mouth gusting against his lips, and his breathing stuttered. He made a soft protesting noise, giving up on self-denial, and kissed her.

Their current position was not particularly accommodating, but Elizabeth managed to clamber into his lap and wrap her legs around his waist. Norrington fought control and instinct as he kissed her, one arm across her back, the other wrapped around the shrouds above him.

The danger of their current predicament was undeniable. The _Empress_ pitched drunkenly through the water, setting her wood and rigging to groaning as it always did, while they perched precariously upon a narrow platform of wood high above the rolling sea and solid deck, kept there only by Norrington's knuckles wrapped whitely around the lines and their own balance.

This only added to the thrill. Norrington laughed silently, wrapped up in the kiss, remembering pushing the soaked silk jacket beneath his hand off of her shoulders…

Heat blasted off the drenched clothing that separated their two bodies, even as Elizabeth's fingers trembled from the cold. She shoved at the sword hilt that dug into her thigh, keeping her from pushing closer, and kissed him harder. Her right hand moved up over his chest and shoulder, smoothing down the drenched white shirt that clung to his skin. She trailed her fingers lightly up over the taut muscles of his left arm where he clutched the ropes. Norrington shuddered and gasped slightly as she traced electric patterns with one cold finger over his wrist and the inside of his arm. She kept going until she had coiled her hand around his clenched fingers, aligning their arms, her chest lifting to make up for his longer arm span.

Norrington was relieved when she placed one hand on his chest, an obvious 'stop' gesture and drew back; making the decision he was too weak to.

He pulled away from her lips with difficulty and worked at controlling his breathing. "You shouldn't do this to people, Elizabeth," he said with a smile.

"Do what?" Her tone was perhaps too innocent.

"Seduce us." Each syllable was distinct. "Make us dream."

Elizabeth was watching his grey eyes and biting her lip. She pushed wet hair out of her face distractedly.

Norrington settled back, his eyes never leaving her face. "What of Shipwreck Cove?"

"What?"

"Your dear William will be there." He did not say this grudgingly, only as a statement of fact. He did not imagine it this time; Elizabeth averted her eyes, teeth digging into her lip. Norrington wondered if she knew how attractive she was when she did that. Probably not.

"And as you intend on returning to him, I do not think another mistake like last night's would be in order."

"Do you want me to go back?"

Norrington stared at her, astonished. "No, of course not."

"Then why do you continue to make assumptions about decisions that are mine to make!"

Norrington was surprised by the venom in her voice. He was speechless. "Elizabeth," he finally soothed, when some of her anger had abated, "I only thought…that choice was made, years ago."

"Choices can be changed," she snapped.

"They can," he agreed simply, reaching up to stroke her face. "You once made a very different choice, to me, to save his life. A choice you weren't committed to."

"I was committed." Her voice was sharp and offended.

"But not in heart, not fully. I didn't want you to have to force yourself to love me."

"It would have been...hard, more than hard, to leave him, but not to love you," she whispered. "Sometimes I wonder what would be if we'd never pulled him from the water, if I hadn't taken that stupid gold medallion from his neck. I didn't want you to think he was a pirate, not after that little speech of yours about hanging." She sounded remarkably like Weatherby when she said that, and Norrington was reminded suddenly with a wash of sadness that his friend was no more. She waved her hands vaguely.

"A short drop and a sudden stop, I never forgot that." She smiled painfully. "He ended up a pirate after all. And a- a -a goddamn traitor!" She yelled this last bit, tears glimmering in her eyes. Norrington hugged her awkwardly while she cried, thinking, What if we hadn't pulled him from the water? What if we'd never found him? The pirates would never have come to Port Royal, I would have hanged that damnable Jack Sparrow, there would have been no kidnappings and chases. I would have married Elizabeth, and we would not be here, on a pirate ship, running from the Flying Dutchman. Really, Jack had been right: it was Will Turner that had ruined his life.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" Elizabeth ventured after awhile, sitting up and swiping tears clumsily from her cheeks.

Surprised, Norrington considered it. "I can't decide. It may hurt more, yes. It rather depends."

"On what?"

"The choice I'm not supposed to assume." There was levity in his voice that hid his mad whirlwind of thoughts.

Elizabeth sighed and rested her head against his chest. "The choice is not easily made."

Norrington felt rather uncomfortable; he could not participate particularly well in this conversation. "It is yours to make alone."

"No," Elizabeth disagreed, "It is half made by the man himself."

Norrington argued with himself for several minutes as to whether to say what was on the tip of his tongue or not, and finally lost to himself. Maybe his mouth was becoming desensitized to common sense the more he kissed Elizabeth. He amused himself with this thought for a minute, and then asked, "And what are the choices there to be made?"

Elizabeth answered without pause, "Whether to marry you or Will."

Though he was expecting something like this, the bluntness and force of what she said struck him hard and he felt his heartbeat pick up. Elizabeth, her head against his chest, heard this and smiled.

"There's a lot in your favor, James," she admitted. But then she added softly, "And a lot in his."

Norrington closed his eyes and rubbed her shoulder gently. "I'm sorry you have such a decision to make."

"I should have known it was coming."

Norrington smiled at the sleepiness now evident in her voice. "You should sleep," he murmured. "You have a ship to captain and a choice to make. Come on."

He untwined her hand from his and slid gently out from underneath her. When he had found secure footing on the lines, he pulled her toward him, helped her wrap her legs around his waist and her arms about his neck, and holding her to his chest, descended slowly. She regained some clarity as they went, and by the time they reached deck she was gazing about blearily.

"Put me down," she whispered teasingly, "I'm the captain, for God's sake!"

Norrington obliged, and Elizabeth strode off toward the cabin slightly unsteadily. Men saluted as she passed, and she nodded back, half-awake. She stumbled into the cabin, shaking from the cold, and Norrington shut the door behind her. Two Chinese maidservants were there, their faces carefully blank of all emotion. They bowed when they saw Elizabeth.

"Get her some dry clothes," Norrington ordered, shivering himself. "And some for me." One of the girls translated this into a fluid babble of Chinese and the other bowed again and departed, while the first stood stiffly, awaiting further instructions.

Norrington glanced around. A massive hole gaped through one wall to the sea beyond, and wooden wreckage was strewn all about. A black spot of blood darkened the floor against the starboard side of the room and tables stood about in haphazard fashion, filled with objects and brews distinctly oriental. He wrinkled his nose at the strange scent of drifting incense and spices and eyed the doors leading off of this room.

"Where are quarters where the Captain might stay?" he inquired of the remaining girl. She walked swiftly across the room, turning her head from the bloodstain, and opened one of two doors on the starboard wall. Norrington stuck his head inside and saw a crimson painted room occupied chiefly by a large bed draped in turquoise silks. Obviously, Sao Feng's quarters, though judging by the silky something folded across the foot of the bed and the drawer the first girl was pulling clothes from, they was also intended to be Elizabeth's. Norrington shook his head in disgust.

"And for me?"

The second girl let the tiniest hint of surprise escape onto her features. She'd obviously assumed they were going to share the turquoise bed. Norrington allowed thoughts of that very thing to maraud about his head for a moment, then corrected his focus.

"If you could direct me to somewhere I might stay," he repeated. The girl flushed and bowing, took a lantern and led him back into the main room and then to the adjoining door. This room was rather sparser, with a simple bed and sheets, though the walls were a dark green in color and a large silken tapestry of some sort hung on the back wall.

He imagined the rooms were a little close for her self-control, but he figured they'd manage. Everything had come so far in a single night, his head was still spinning.

He padded back out into the main room, stepping on splinters, and announced his intentions to go to bed.

Elizabeth smiled at him. "I'll be right next door," she assured, making him feel flushed and awkward and unsure of how to respond. He stepped forward, then glanced at the maidservants who stood nearby, eyes on the floor and clothes in their hands.

_Ah, to hell with them_, he thought tiredly, and cupping Elizabeth's face in his hands, he kissed her softly.

"Try and get some sleep," he whispered, "you've had a long night. I'll still be here in the morning."

"You don't know what a blessing that is, James," she whispered back sleepily.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"Goodnight, James."

He dragged himself away, took the clothing the maidservant held out and strode back to his cabin, ruminating. He barely paused long enough to strip off his soaked clothing, throw it over a chair and pull on dry breeches, before he had blown out the lamp and fallen into bed, exhausted.

He woke somewhere around an hour later to the soft rustle of sheets and Elizabeth's smooth hands touching his back. He rolled over and she settled against his chest with a sigh. Norrington folded his arm around her shoulders and then lay in the dark, listening to her breathing lull back down into that of sleep, before he finally closed his eyes and drifted there himself, a smile on his face.

7


	4. Chapter 4 Something Like Sparrow

The Choices There To Be Made

(formerly 'Best Mistake I Ever Made')

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such, though I would gladly take Elizabeth's place. Alas! I am only a fanfiction writer. The scene, however, is mine. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

Chapter Four

Something Like Sparrow

Norrington's dreams were colorful and he woke slightly foggily, trying to sort reality from fantasy. There was a moment where he stared at the ceiling, convinced he had invented all of it, before he realized that the ceiling was inexplicably green. And then Elizabeth mumbled in her sleep, and joy flooded through him. He lifted his head and glanced down to where she lay across his chest, one arm thrown up over his shoulder, then fell back, a smile on his face. He stroked her hair absently, not wanting to move.

_There is no greater joy than this_, he decided. Sadness colored the smile as the matter moved, as it always did, to Elizabeth's choice. Nothing was decided yet. He could not count on having this forever. He could not count on anything.

He had given up. That had been a time of great agony for him, losing her that way. Love unreturned was always so, or so he'd heard. But he had given up, had stepped with grace from Turner's path and tried to wish them well. He had tried to hope she was happy, but in order to do that, he had to accept that she was better off with Turner and he couldn't do that. So it hadn't really worked. But he _had_ given up.

Seeing her flirt with Sparrow had been harder than he would have thought, but caused him less pain than it might. Captain Jack was a very different kind of creature than either Turner or himself, and so her reaction to him could not exactly be judged in the same light. Still, he had only survived _that_ particular encounter by pretending he didn't care, which hadn't worked particularly well either.

And, well…nothing had come of it, he was the one man who could attest to that with any degree of certainty.

The thought made him mildly uncomfortable. He would have thought she and Turner…But evidently not. Was that because they were waiting for their wedding? Or because there had been no right opportunity? Or…some other reason?

It put to rights, also, a question that had bothered him for a long time: what had happened on that godforsaken island. He had never had the nerve to ask her, nor did he think he ever would, but evidently whatever had occurred, it hadn't been _that._

Which only raised more questions for Norrington. If Elizabeth had not seen fit to demonstrate that level of romance with the man she had intended to marry, or even to Sparrow while marooned on a desert isle and thoroughly sloshed, why had she done so last night, to him, after half a year apart?

_'Not like Will, there is nothing in the world like that...' Is Will so noble as all that? Sparrow certainly isn't_. Norrington was sure Captain Jack had poured as much Rum as he possibly could down Elizabeth's throat. But it hadn't worked. It was possible that Will had denied her that, though if Elizabeth had been bent on that course, Norrington doubted any man could have refused her long, and Turner simply did not strike him as that sort. If he himself had failed there...

_Why me? What changed her mind in a way that Turner and Sparrow never did? Why now?_

He felt ashamed, though there was no denying the thrill that ran through him at being her first. First in sin, the both of them, and not married.

He frowned. It certainly complicated things. Yet he did not regret it, never that. He would take the consequences, be it blade or noose or loneliness.

It did make him wonder, though.

He remembered the softness that was in her voice when she had hauled him out of the mud, drunk though he had been.

He remembered the way she had looked as she thought of Jack, the way she had teased him.

He remembered the joy in her voice and the way she had kissed Turner when he had appeared out of the sea like a half-drowned rat to steal the chest and the woman he loved, and the sharp pain that had been.

And he remembered her eyes when she had said, "I love you, James," and the truth behind those words.

And he wondered if he was just a passing fancy.

Even the thought hurt. Having her not love him was bad enough, but the idea that she might love him only marginally, was even worse.

He had let her go; he could do it again. He knew that sort of pain well enough, though it would be near unbearable now. He could release her, if she didn't love him, and he could bravely turn away if she did love him, but was already pledged.

But if she loved him no more than she loved Jack Sparrow, if she requited his eternal love with nothing but lust, he did not think he could bear it.

Elizabeth moaned slightly in her sleep and wrapped her arm tighter about his shoulder. "James," she mumbled faintly, "I love you, James. Where're u'?" She trailed away into meaningless slurrings, though he caught 'Will' and something that sounded like 'would' and 'never'.

Norrington smiled and held her tightly, doubts assuaged, at least for the time being. The woman he loved was sleeping on his chest and he would not spoil that with answer-less questions. Her final decision would be made upon reaching Shipwreck Cove. It was only a matter of time.

He lay there for awhile longer, sliding his hand over her tangled hair, down the back of the thin silk shift she wore and back. Eventually, it occurred to him that he had no idea what time it was. As gently as he could, he eased out from underneath the still-sleeping Elizabeth and stood, tucking the sheet carefully back around her. It was hot, but not unbearable, so it couldn't be too late. Definitely long after dawn, though. He stretched and winced at how sore his muscles were, especially his legs. He thought about the reason he had sore muscles and grinned. Shaking his head, he yawned and opened the door.

The sudden light blasted into his eyes and for a moment, he couldn't see anything at all. Squinting painfully, he ascertained that the light was pouring in through the hole in the side of the ship and tall windows set high in the back wall he had failed to notice the night before. One of the maidservants was bent over something on her lap, working.

"What time is it?" he asked.

The girl started, then smiled apologetically. She said something in Chinese that Norrington didn't understand, set the thing in her lap that Norrington now saw to be fabric aside, held up one finger and vanished from the room. Norrington waited.

She returned a moment later with the other girl, though Norrington had no idea which was which. Both bowed.

"You need somet'ing, Adm'ar?" one girl asked in a high-pitched, accented voice. Norrington wondered briefly how she knew he was an Admiral.

"What time is it, please?"

The two girls conferred in Chinese and decided it was, "Ten mo'ning, Adm'ar."

"Ten?" Well, it could have been worse. "Bring the Captain some breakfast," he instructed, unconsciously slowing his speech and making his voice louder, "And can you find me a coat?" He mimed putting on a coat.

One girl glanced at his bare chest and giggled. The other looked puzzled. "I gave you coat wit' crothes, Adm'ar."

"You gave me a shirt," Norrington corrected, "I want a coat. You know, a long coat?" He buttoned his imaginary coat and showed how far it came down his leg. "A shirt, and then a coat?" He mimed putting one on and then the other. "And some boots?"

The first girl giggled but the other girl seemed to understand. "Coat?" she said doubtfully. "I get you coat, Adm'ar. And boots."

"Thank you."

The girls seemed surprised by his thanks, but Norrington, annoyed by having to use such ridiculous means, merely turned and was surprised to find Elizabeth standing there. She was laughing at his charade and Norrington scowled, feeling foolish.

"A setback I did not anticipate," he growled.

Elizabeth laughed. "Sao Feng was Chinese, what do you expect? You do quite good imitations, though, I must say. I've never heard them speak before, I guess Sao Feng didn't permit it."

"They seem to have a problem with the letter 'l', among other things." Considering how he must have looked, he couldn't really deny the humor. He stalked back into the cabin, Elizabeth still laughing and discovered that his shirt was still wet. Muttering to himself, he pulled the spare over his head and found it was too short in the sleeves. In addition to that, his new breeches were much tighter than he would have liked, uncomfortably so, and also too short.

He turned around as Elizabeth drifted back toward him like a lavender ghost, a smile on her face. "You look like a pirate," she reminded him, as he buckled on his sword.

"You look stunning," he replied.

"I'll remind you, Admiral Norrington," she teased in a dignified voice, "That you are addressing one of the nine pirate lords."

Norrington swept into a bow. "My apologies, your majesty."

Elizabeth's lips twitched, then she sighed. "Tell me I don't have to go up there."

"I could, but I don't really think it would do any good, your majesty."

"I did not ask to be a pirate captain. I would much rather be back in bed. With you," she clarified.

Norrington watched her, amazed as he probably always would be, whenever she said anything romantic toward him.

"I echo your sentiments, Miss Swan, but I do believe you have a ship to captain and a brethren court to attend. And then there is the matter of your choice."

"My choice?" she said loftily.

"It has not been made."

"Then I suppose I had better get dressed," Elizabeth dismissed frostily.

She headed out the door, but got no further than a few steps into her own room, before Norrington caught her arm, spinning her back.

"I apologize, Elizabeth, that was rude."

Elizabeth pulled out of his grip. "_That_ was ruder."

Norrington dropped his arm.

"James…you're right. I have things to do. Responsibility. And until I know where I'm going, I shouldn't cause either of us more pain."

Part of Norrington was cursing himself for being so damn noble and causing her to change her mind, but he hushed it with a sharp thought. He'd had a set of morals once; just because he consistently lost them, did not mean they had to be completely discarded.

"You have no idea how afraid I was," Elizabeth whispered, "When I woke up and thought you were gone. You couldn't leave, not when I hadn't decided yet."

"I'm not going anywhere," Norrington promised, surprised by how much he meant it and irritated with himself for having frightened her.

"Except out of my room, because I'm going to change."

Norrington surprised even himself by blushing a faint pink, and ducked out, as Elizabeth shut the door. He stared at the wooden door for a long moment, then sighed, and turned away.

Norrington kept a respectful distance through breakfast and most of the rest of the morning. The honorable side of him that had slunk away so thoroughly the night before was retuning in full force, and he felt fully ashamed of himself.

He was acting like….a pirate! Amusing as this thought was, inside, he burned with shame. Not only had he declared himself to a betrothed woman, he had made inappropriate advances, stolen her virtue, no matter how willingly given, and violated her future-husband's rights. What a mess.

He needed something strong to drink. What luck, he was aboard a pirate ship, and what better place to find Rum?

He headed off toward the galley, but was met midway by one of the Chinese maidservants.

"Your crothes, Admirar."

Norrington stared. She was completely identical in looks and appearance to the other two, and he would have thought her so, except her voice was lower and less deeply accented.

He took the coat and boots she proffered and the girl stepped forward to help him put them on. The coat was of a light brown leather with black knotted frogs and the boots were sable suede with tattered black lace across the heels and turn-downs that he found he rather fancied.

The coat and boots fit well, though the latter pinched slightly at the instep. Norrington assumed they would break in.

The girl smiled with rot-blackened teeth. "And a hat, Admirar." She produced from behind her back a tall, high-crowned black tricorner, a blood-red feather draped around the inside of the points.

Norrington stared, trying to picture himself in something so flamboyant. "I don't really think…"

The girl grinned and waved something else at him. It was his real clothes and what looked suspiciously like…

Norrington grabbed at his side. "My sword! Give it back!"

The girl smiled and clapped her hands. A second Chinese girl ghosted forward, took the sword and clothes and disappeared.

"Give me back my sword!"

"Admirar, don't be diffircurt, or ot'er crothes go 'way too, ah?"

Norrington scowled, humiliated that she had been able to steal from him so easily.

"Now come, yes."

"No, I-" he started, but before he could do anything, the other two girls appeared at his elbows and lead him away.

"What-I-" he stammered, surprised by how firm their grip was. They half-dragged him up the stairs, into the cabin, and through another door on the starboard side. This one led down a set of stairs, doubled back upon itself, and ended before a single door with a gold knob, blackened with age.

The girl with black teeth knocked once, loudly, and spoke something in Chinese. The door opened and the girls pushed him inside.

Norrington stared at the reflection in the mirror in amazement, his hands trembling. He hardly recognized himself. His features were the same, his hazel-grey eyes the same color they had always been, but the similarities ended there.

They had washed, brushed and straightened his hair, and it now hung about his face in graceful, dark waves. He was cleaner than he had been in a long time, but also rather disturbed. They had forced the hat back upon his head, fixed him up in a dandy white shirt, the buckskin coat, bottle-green breeches, the lacy boots and fancy ragged black lace cuffs. All of it had a slightly weathered but refined air to it. A dark shadow clung to his jaw, and about his throat hung a tiny golden ship on a silver chain. He examined his new appearance in the mirror and discovered that, odd as it sounded, he liked the look. Not only did he look like a pirate, he looked…dashing.

The thought made him smile as he pivoted, and the girls giggled. He glared at them. This torture had not been his idea.

"My sword?"

The girl hesitated.

"Look, thank you for the clothes, they're very nice, and I promise I'll wear them. Now, give me back my sword." The last had a hint of a command to it.

The girl handed it over meekly and bowed. Norrington sheathed it, relieved to have it back, took one more look at himself in the mirror, and turned away.

"Some Rum," he decided, unable to keep himself from swaggering ever so slightly, "And I am going up on deck." He realized he sounded something like Sparrow as he said it, and he found the notion did not disturb him over much.

He had the servant girl carry a chair up on the aft deck for him and he sat there, drinking Rum, with his boots up on the rail, until he heard Elizabeth say quite distinctly, "Really, that is quite enough!" He cocked his head, listening, and realized the sound was coming from below him at the same instant that Elizabeth stormed out of the cabin. She glanced around, saw him sitting there, and stopped, her mouth falling open. Norrington, who had been expecting this reaction, hid a smile beneath another swig.

The Rum burned like fire, but he enjoyed the sensation. Since his days in Tortuga he'd learned he had something of a weakness for the stuff. It tasted too much like shame and bitterness and pain, and it was the only sympathy he'd ever gotten, the only kindness and escape he'd ever found from anguish.

"Miss Swann," he said dryly, standing and waving at the chair. Elizabeth climbed the steps slowly, still staring.

"James, what is this?" She was dressed in her Calypso clothing again, and Norrington smiled at the memories.

"I figured," he explained, sitting down again when she declined the offer, "That as I'm no longer an Admiral, I needn't act like one anymore."

"And this is how you're doing it?"

Norrington gestured vaguely at his clothing. "No, this is courtesy of your China dolls. They seemed to think I deserved a dressing up."

Elizabeth merely gaped at him, searching for something to say.

"You don't like it?"

"No-no, it-it's-you look good. Handsome. Like a pirate."

"Funny," Norrington drawled, swirling the bottle, "Admiral to pirate in a single night."

"How much have you had to drink?" Elizabeth asked cautiously.

Norrington indicated the slight dent in the amber liquid. Elizabeth tugged the bottle out of his grip.

"Well, it's clearly quite enough."

Norrington shrugged. "If you had that stupid compass, the one that doesn't point north, in your hands, where would it lead you?"

Elizabeth stared at him. "That depends on my proximity to you and Will at the time."

Norrington stood up, not a trace of Rum evident in his stance or voice. He smiled devilishly. "Then I suppose you ought to borrow it when we're not around, shouldn't you?" He walked away.

Elizabeth stared after him for a long moment, then tore after him, Rum still in hand.

"What was that?" she demanded, catching up to him on the Quarterdeck.

Norrington smiled endearingly and liberated the Rum from her grasp. "You're more honest when you think I'm drunk."

Elizabeth glared at him in fury. "You are drunk."

Norrington considered that. "Maybe," he admitted, swigging at the bottle and stepping closer.

Elizabeth backed away. "James-"

He stopped and looked at her over the smoky glass. "Hmm?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Norrington eyed her dubiously. "Things are easier to manage when I'm not Admiral Norrington. It puts things in perspective better." He leaned down and kissed her.

Elizabeth shoved him away.

"I'm sorry, am I ruining your choice?"

Elizabeth grabbed the Rum bottle and took a swallow.

"It's easier not to think about Will Turner waiting at Shipwreck Cove for his lovely lass when I'm a-what did you once call me?-a 'wobbly-legged, Rum-soaked pirate'?"

"James, please, I never said I had made my choice! Stop this. Trying to be Jack Sparrow will not win my affections. I never truly cared for him. I love you." She placed a hand on his arm and Norrington suddenly stood straighter. He smiled sadly.

"No, Elizabeth, the choice was made. You're only considering whether you should go back on it or not. I understand Becket arrested you on your wedding day?"

Elizabeth's mouth fell open and he could see she was struggling to decide whether or not to hit him.

"Understand, Elizabeth, that I mean no ill will. And no, I am not trying to be Jack Sparrow. I, unlike Sparrow, can let you go when you are in my arms, not just release you in horror of the Black Spot. I can stay away until the choice is made, an eternity if need be. Can you say the same of Sparrow? Or Turner?"

Elizabeth gaped at him, floundering, as Norrington wandered off again. Then she followed. "Are you drunk or not?" she demanded.

Norrington spun to face her. "What do you think?" Which was not a proper answer at all.

"What was that about Jack?"

Norrington sketched quotations in the air. "'I'm proud of you, Jack'?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"A lot. He let go for the very simple reason that Jones chose that very instant to re-invoke the Black Spot, Miss Swann. Pirate though I may now be, I have every intention of allowing you to make an unfettered decision."

"And how is that?"

"By staying away," Norrington said simply, walking away again. "Which is rather difficult, when you insist on following me, Miss Swann," he called over his shoulder as Elizabeth trailed after him yet again.

She stopped dead and he wandered off, leaving her marooned on the deck, mouthing imprecations at his retreating figure.

Norrington sighed, pushed the Rum bottle at a passing crewman, and slumped against the starboard rail. That had been difficult. He was surprised to feel Elizabeth's smooth fingers massaging his shoulder, but he gave no indication that he was aware of her presence.

"That was handled well."

Norrington grunted sourly and said nothing.

"You're jealous," she noted teasingly.

"Jealous? Shouldn't I be?"

"Not of Jack."

"You're not making this any easier." He lapsed into silence and stared off at the horizon.

"What're you thinking?"

"Shall I give you the full run-down?"

"Yes, please."

Norrington sighed and bowed his head over the rail. "I am extremely jealous of the fact that Sparrow spent an entire day and night drinking Rum on the beach with you, something I can never do, I am afraid that I am going to lose you as soon as we set foot in Shipwreck Cove, and I am ashamed of myself. Good enough?"

"Enough to be starting with," she murmured.

"And then there's that." He pointed off the starboard stern to the gleam of white faintly visible there. At almost the same instant, a man aloft cried, "Sail ahoy!"

Another voice yelled, "Tops'ls, Captain! Two points off the sta'b'd stern and gainin'!"

"What colors she flying?" Elizabeth bellowed back. Beside her, Norrington winced.

"Can't see, Captain!"

"Keep an eye on her, then!"

"Aye, Captain!"

Norrington turned to her. "Pursuit, prey or pirate?"

"I don't know," she replied, worried. Suddenly, she screamed, "All hands, stations!"

The ship became a mad scramble of running men. Norrington stepped back, watching her work, then went in search of his Rum bottle. He finally extricated it from the grip of its' recalcitrant and reluctant owner, a good deal emptier, and wended his way through knots of men to the helm. It was manned by a short, toothless, Chinese man who nodded at him briefly.

Norrington pulled a spyglass from the rack of instruments there and stuck it to his eye. The ship was much larger now, and he could spy her creamy billows of sails, glimpses of her hull as she dove in and out of the waves and the occasional flash of something metal catching the sunlight. Her colours were not visible, nor was she identifiable at this distance. But she was definitely gaining on them, flying like a half-skinned rabbit before the hounds.

"Helmsman," Norrington asked, "What lanes are there here?"

The man scratched his shoulder. "Ah...One nor'-sou', I t'ink? None in our rine. She should ha' adj'sted course if she go to the isrands." He pointed a gnarled finger off to the north.

"So she is no merchant. Her destination is ours," Norrington mused.

"Or we are her dest'nation." The man shrugged. "But I don' t'ink so." He held out a hopeful hand. Norrington hesitated a moment, then handed him the bottle.

"No?"

"No. Eas' India a'ways show her corours." The man took a harsh swig and wiped his mouth.

"So she's a pirate."

The helmsman shrugged again, clawing at his now-bloody shoulder. "We are going to a gat'ering of pirates. A' are we'come." He took another swig and passed it back.

"So she is no threat."

The helmsman grinned, displaying black gums. "T'ere is a'ways t'reat wit' pirates."

Norrington shrugged, conceding the point, and squinted through the spyglass again. There was a sudden ripple of black that caught the wind. Colours. The Black Flag.

He sighed. "Aye, she's a pirate," he told the man, "she's run up the black flag."

"As are we," the man pointed out.

Norrington peered up at the crimson and sable banners that snapped in the wind, realizing the helmsman was watching him.

"You are Navy Admirar, yes?"

"Formerly," Norrington corrected stiffly.

"But you free us." It was not a question and Norrington did not know how to respond. "I t'ank you t'at." The man put out his hand and dropped a word like 'shau'.

Norrington took his hand, surprised by how much he was enjoying this simple conversation. "James Norrington."

Xiau nodded, eyed Norrington a moment longer, then turned back to the helm. Norrington stood there a moment longer, unsure of where he was going, then clomped down the steps in his fancy boots to sit in the relative coolness of the shade of the upper deck.

Elizabeth found him there, the bottle propped on his knee, his legs sprawled out in front of him.

"She's a pirate," Elizabeth informed him, sitting down beside him.

"So I saw."

"She's the faster."

Norrington lifted an eyebrow, wondering what she was getting at.

"She's got the weather gauge, but even still...She's fast. I wouldn't like to bet against her. My question is: why? What's driving her?"

"The _Dutchman_? I wouldn't put it past Beckett to have brought this war full force. Like as not, he sails with a full armada. That would put a fire under any pirate's wings."

"She's going to catch us up."

Norrington heard the worry in her voice. "Is that bad?"

"I don't know. She might be able to tell us about the pursuit, but...I don't know, it's just- it'll be my first stab at Captaincy, at really dealing with pirates. And you never know what aims they themselves might have. It's a risky business."

"You're captaining now," Norrington pointed out, taking a gulp from the bottle.

"Well, yes, but...I've got to try and think like Barbossa, as terrible as that sounds. I have to think like a pirate captain, I have to outsmart whoever he might be over there. Thinking like Jack would never help; he makes it up as he goes along! We're sailing into a den of thieves, James, and I'm now supposed to be one of them."

"All I can say is: better you than me."

Elizabeth laughed.

"And what exactly is supposed to occur when we get to Shipwreck Cove?"

Elizabeth shrugged, stealing the Rum bottle. "Some sort of court, a gathering, a pirate's meeting. Sao Feng wasn't very clear. Apparently there's a lot of arguing and chaos."

Norrington sighed. "Would we expect anything less?"

Elizabeth mumbled, "Not really," around a mouthful of Rum.

"What is up for the court to decide?"

Elizabeth frowned, passing the bottle back. "What we should do about Lord Beckett knocking on our door and damning us all to Davy Jones."

"And what are we in favor of?"

Elizabeth got a strange expression and Norrington realized it was in reaction to his use of the word 'we'.

"Fighting," she declared grandly. "There are enough of us gathered here to blast Beckett to Kingdom come."

"Sparrow intends to fight?" Norrington asked skeptically.

Elizabeth frowned again, the crease between her eyes deepening.

"Um...so he says. It's the only alternative to running. Barbossa wants to free Calypso and let her deal with Beckett's ilk. Who knows what the rest are for."

"And the traitor?"

Elizabeth looked at him shrewdly.

"Whoever betrayed you to Beckett."

Elizabeth sat back.

"It had to be someone, and I think we agree on the two who it is most likely to be."

"That means nothing."

Norrington gave up, leaned back against the wood and closed his eyes. He felt Elizabeth lean up against his shoulder and murmured, "Miss Swann, please."

She did not move away, but he felt a difference in her posture. He sighed half in relief and half in irritation and sat there, feeling the shadows slowly creep up over his calves and past his knees until sunlight was seeping heat into his leg bones.

He opened one eye. Elizabeth was toying nervously with the rim of the Rum bottle, wisps of hair flickering on her shoulders. She glanced down at him and he felt his mouth grow dry at how close her perfect lips were. At some unspoken agreement, she stared off at the horizon. "Mr. Norrington," she muttered softly.

"Miss Swann," he replied. Steeling himself, he sat up. This wasn't getting him anywhere. Grunting slightly from his stiff muscles, he climbed to his feet and peered out at the ship. It was clearly visible to the unaided eye.

"Captain Swann," he called, "You should see this."

Elizabeth was at his side in an instant, a spyglass appearing in her hand. She saw what he saw however, and shuttered the glass. "We need to be prepared for the worst," she breathed, and whirling about, shouted, "Tai Huang!"

The scraggly Chinaman popped out of thin air next to her shoulder and Norrington listened to the orders she gave with careful attentiveness. "I trust that these will be obeyed with the utmost attention," she added coldly on the end.

Tai Huang gave a slight bow. "Of course, Captain."

Elizabeth turned to him. "I trust also, Mr. Norrington, that you will lend your considerable knowledge of such things wherever and whenever it is needed and fail not to act in my stead. Understand?"

"Perfectly, Captain."

Holding her queenly demeanor like a very full cup of liquid, she stalked off, Tai Huang began shouting orders, and Norrington, after watching her walk for a moment, kicked off his boots, and scrambled into the rigging.

He sat there for awhile, watching the silken black flag flutter closer, the blood red skull, sword and hourglass grimacing weirdly in the brisk wind, while below him, the _Empress_ readied herself for a battle they all hoped wouldn't take place. There were emotions he could not control associated with this sight. Adrenaline was already rising in his system. There had been no time he could recall, that he had sighted just such a grisly flag without impending violence, the thrill of the chase, the thunder of the cannon, the scream of the shells. He was a Navyman, and the sight of pirate colours catching the high sun inspired a battle fervour in his blood, a hunting instinct. It did not matter that he was a pirate now himself, or that he planned no conflict with these men, it was too deeply ingrained to be brushed aside so easily. He found his muscles trembling, waiting for the first crack of fire, but there was none. The ship was drawing alongside, voices were calling between the two vessels, grappling lines tossed across the gap of swaying water.

Sighing, Norrington unclenched his hand from his sword hilt and swung down to see what kind of men these pirates would turn out to be.


	5. Chapter 5 Right Till This Here Moment

The Choices There To Be Made

(formerly 'Best Mistake I Ever Made')

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such, though I would gladly take Elizabeth's place. Alas! I am only a fanfiction writer. The scene, however, is mine. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

Chapter Five

Right Till This Here Moment

Norrington's feet hit deck and he straightened and turned. The ship was tall and handsome, with elegant lines and a swift, sharp bow. The men gathered about the rails, hands loose on their weapons, looked no different from any other pirates Norrington had seen, though perhaps less ragged than those in Tortuga and with a higher percentage of Celts. Many pairs of green and blue eyes stared impassively out at him from under fiery hair, interspersed with others of various nationalities.

Elizabeth glided gracefully up beside him, in full pirate lord mode, flanked by Tai Huang and a man Norrington did not know.

"An' where be the Captain who flies for Shipwreck Cove with the Jolly Roger so high and proud?" called a clear, youthful voice from somewhere aboard the other ship. Norrington and Elizabeth shared a look. This was not what they'd expected.

A young man strolled into view, hands clasped behind his back, and faced them squarely. "Would that be you, sir, or you, madam?"

Elizabeth drew herself up. "Captain Elizabeth Swann, pirate lord of the brethren court."

The lad seemed surprised, but bowed gracefully. "Yer majesty. Forgive me, I did not expect..."

"You expected Sao Feng."

"I did," the man agreed amiably, but warily. He spoke to Elizabeth, but he continued watching Norrington with curiosity.

"And who might you be, coming seeking Shipwreck Cove?" Elizabeth asked coldly and imperiously, attempting to hide her own curiosity.

The man grinned languidly. "Heard there was a fight against them Navy bastards an' I di'n't fancy facin' 'em alone. But I'm Seren, Irish mistress to the sea and right 'til this here moment, the only woman pirate captain save Mistress Cheng alone."

Norrington managed to keep himself from staring. Seeing Elizabeth in men's clothes was strange enough, but at least she still looked female! This woman smacked of a young buck right up to the stupid grin upon her face. But, looking closer at her, he realized she was actually really very pretty, though in a completely different way from Elizabeth.

Seren was a little on the short side, with thick auburn hair cropped right above her ears and bright blue eyes. She had a long crooked nose that appeared to have been broken recently and was peeling from a bad sunburn. Her mouth tipped lopsidedly from a small tear across her lower lip, but was presently pulled back in a wolfish grin. She was wearing a tattered black coat, faded red breeches that clashed terribly with her hair, brown leather boots and an unadorned short sword. She stood, hands on her hips, head cocked a little to one side, her eyes straying from Norrington to Elizabeth and back.

Norrington found himself shaking his head. This bold-as-brass woman was similar in so many ways to Elizabeth and yet completely different.

Elizabeth was smiling in amazed incredulity and abruptly the two were laughing, muted, careful laughter, but laughter all the same.

"No offense to yer majesty, but I recommend you put yer boots up yer men's backsides or there'll be hell to pay right here shortly. We been flyin' like the devil hisself was behind us, 'cause whate'er the Navy's coerced this time he ain't no ordinary demon."

"Speak plainly."

"Them East India bastards are a fair bit behind us, with more sails than I e'er clapped me eyes on in me life, and they've got a devil ship with 'em the men says is Davy Jones' own."

"Yes, Jones has joined the Company."

Seren looked fairly boggled. "'Em's tellin' the truth? They got the _Flyin' Dutchman_? Hell, I didn't like the odds to begin with. Still," she shot a wide grin at Norrington, "fight's a fight, eh? Now, if you don't mind, yer majesty, I'll be castin' off fer the cove, escort like, if ye will, but I don't fancy hangin' about till them sons of bitches get here, aye?"

There was something about the way she tagged questions onto the ends of her sentences, that gave Norrington a sneaking suspicion that she had spent some time around one Captain Sparrow.

Elizabeth smiled genuinely, the pirate lord melting off of her. "Yes, let's see how these birds will fly."

Seren grinned broadly, flashed a wink at Norrington that took him aback, and spinning about roared at astounding volume, "Haul canvas, boyos, le's get some speed on her!"

The ships shoved apart, thunking, scraping and banging, and the _Empress_ took the lead, nosing around until her sails shuddered. The men loosed them and they swung and filled, shooting the ship forward like an arrow from a bow. The bonny pirate ship behind them easily kept pace, leaping waves like a dolphin and respectfully flanking off her starboard stern.

The rest of the voyage proved uneventful. Norrington wandered about, somehow managing to always come face to face with Elizabeth, and studied the horizon through a spyglass. He also took advantage of their proximity to the other vessel to study her on-goings, though he was more careful after he discovered their captain was engaged in doing the exact same thing, and was busy watching _him_. He ate food when it was served, away from the rest of the crew who were mostly engaged in boisterous conversation in a foreign language.

He found himself falling easily back into the rhythms of a ship without Navy discipline. He spent the evening high in the rigging watching the stars come out and drift across the sky, marveling again at how he had walled himself away from this simple pleasure.

He found himself wondering about Seren and what had pulled her into a life of piracy. He wondered if hers was another story of a life gone wrong or if she was here by free choice.

And he found himself changing in inexplicable ways that he wasn't sure he wanted but didn't know how to prevent. The stars whirled endlessly above him and he felt himself falling through space to a point he couldn't define or claim. All he knew was that when he landed, everything would be different.

Later, much later, he slid down the ropes and ghosted into the cabin. Elizabeth was already asleep in the small bed, curled into a small ball. He slid in beside her, careful not to disturb her beautiful, deep breaths, her lips twitching to a good dream, and drifted off to sleep, unsure of who he would be when he awoke.


	6. Chapter 6 The Sea Sparrow

The Choices There To Be Made

(formerly 'Best Mistake I Ever Made')

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Characters: Norrington, Elizabeth, Seren (OC)

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such, although Seren and the scene are mine. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

_A/N: The 'first kiss' conversation in this chapter refers to my story 'A Martyr's Choice', which, alas! has not been posted yet but it is not necessary that you read it in order to understand 'The Choices There To Be Made', though it does help and I would, of course, love your feedback, once it is up. ~MorganBonny_

Chapter Six

The Sea Sparrow, A Slackening and A Song

They reached the cove at nightfall the next day. By unspoken agreement, Norrington and Elizabeth were back to acting their respective parts and he was wandering about rather unsettled.

He had woke this morning to find Elizabeth already gone, off doing some captainly duty, so he had taken advantage of the momentary relapse of emotion to sit and stare at the floor.

The simple fact was that he was no longer the Admiral Norrington he had woken up as three days ago. He couldn't quite place what inside him was different, but he felt...detached. Something inside him had broken loose. He found what he had once thought were instincts, Naval discipline he'd known his whole life, slipping away, at the same time that he frantically retreated behind them.

When he had been aboard _The Black Pearl_, he'd witnessed a curious kind of abandon. He'd regressed into something he'd never thought he'd be; a sort of devil-may-care, the opposite of what he'd worked toward his whole life. He was disgraced and he'd fled from all things that had once marked him as a Commodore. Well, not all things. There had been a part of him that knew that wasn't what he wanted, really.

Shame and sorrow were such thick, cloying emotions, dragging you into pits you hadn't known existed. The only thing that didn't taste like shame was Rum, and that only masked the taste for awhile. He hadn't given a damn about almost anyone but himself. And when he found a goal, something to erase that rancid taste of shame forever, he'd ceased to care about people at all. He hadn't known he had that darkness inside him, hadn't been aware he was capable of being so bitter, toward Turner and Sparrow and everyone else.

This wasn't the same. Where once he'd embraced the hate and the self-pity and the who-gives-a-damn, now he simply found himself changing to fit a different world. The disgrace he'd been was sufficiently buried, but this new side to his soul was disturbing.

The rigidity of Naval structure was still there, but there were grey areas, pirates who did not deserve to hang, times when it was alright to laugh, things he should not deny himself. His morals had not changed, they had just...slackened a little. He had learned how to breathe and he realized how odd the things he said sometimes were. He talked as his father had talked, strange complicated sentences that hid his true feelings and reworked them into something formal and appropriate. There was no getting around that.

And he could not say, 'I love you'. No matter how he tried, the words would not get past that block, the careful girders of formality would not permit it. He could not tell her he loved her.

He thought of that now as he walked about the ship, unbuttoning the top of his coat. She knew that, but still...He had missed his chance. They were back to being...well, actually he didn't know what they were now.

He was no longer an Admiral, so that formality was gone to a degree, though he never did seem to be able to find the right thing to say. But she was a pirate lord and a captain now, and he didn't know how to treat her. They were friends, but awkward around each other sometimes, because they were really much more than friends, but they couldn't claim that unless she made that choice. And then there was the fact that Norrington kept taking to hiding behind every scrap of Naval conditioning and societal teachings he had in order to make himself behave. So their relationship didn't really have a definition.

Norrington was worried. All of this had the potential to come crashing down the instant they got to Shipwreck Cove. They were sailing to a gathering of pirates with Beckett hard on their heels, a certain pirate blacksmith fiancé more than likely to try and have his head and a certain lovely pirate captain more than likely to break his heart. Again. No, he would not think of that now. He had died that death before, he could re-dig that grave, but he would not do it now. Elizabeth loved him and that was what he would hold to. Her choice would come when it came. For now, it was Turner he was worried about.

He did not know if, on even footing and equal advantage, he was better than Will Turner or not. If he killed Turner, the only person liable to mind would be Elizabeth, but that was quite a person to mind.

He recalled with a smile, Jack shouting, 'Still rooting for you, mate!', as he ran off with that thrice-cursed key. He had been so close to killing both of them that day. And yet, as much as he loathed Sparrow, there was a very small part of him that did not feel that Sparrow's story should have ended on Isla Cruces that day. Norrington sighed. He _must_ be going insane.

His eyes strayed across the rushing water to the sleek pirate ship that bounded just off their stern. He found to his confusion that Captain Seren was leaning over the bow, watching him, and he wondered how long she'd been there. Even in the fading light, her teeth caught the sunlight as she flashed him a dazzling grin.

"Why does she keep doing that?" he muttered to himself. He frowned, annoyed, and heard the sound of someone laughing softly. He turned around to see Elizabeth also watching him. She smiled with mild humor and floated away, still laughing.

By the time they reached the cove, the lanterns were lit and true darkness was falling. A spectacular full moon was rising and Norrington pondered vaguely why such things always seemed to take place under the full moon. The creamy, silken hoop edged over the horizon, casting a shimmer across the water, and you could almost feel magic radiate out of the light. He shivered. If ever there was a night for a pirate gathering, it was tonight. Extra watches were assigned, set for the sole purpose of watching for wreckage ahead. They passed slowly through the narrow channels, the occasional crunch of some long lost spar dragging against the keel an unsettling backdrop to Norrington's already whirlwind thoughts.

True darkness had fallen before they rounded the spur and caught a sight to stop the breath. The cove was alive with light, lanterns pouring off the rigging of a thousand ships, decorating the docks and streets of the town of Shipwreck, illuminating windows and taverns, glittering off the water in a blinding diamond spectacle. Men were laughing, music grating harshly against other tunes, more languages than Norrington could count. They swarmed across the ships like insects, dark shapes in the puddles of light, gunshots ringing out with murderous cracks every couple of minutes, reminding him of Tortuga. He hadn't known the ocean could hold this many pirates. Hundreds of black flags fluttered out behind their respective ships, a myriad of gruesome designs, proud and silken in the lantern light.

Elizabeth stood tall at the very fore of the ship, her shoulders back, her golden hair gleaming in the lantern light. At that moment she looked more like a goddess than Norrington had ever seen her. He burned for a second, fighting with himself, then strode forward and joined her. She did not turn toward him, but he knew she was aware he was there. His breath was over loud in the silence, his hands trembling.

"I wish you could come with me," she whispered, "but I don't think you'd be very welcome at a pirate court."

"I'll wait. For whatever happens." He did not voice his concern that once she saw Will she would no longer want him there.

"Do you remember the first time we kissed?"

What an odd question. There had been nothing he had thought of more. "Of course, how could I forget?"

"I- I don't want you to think I was playing you false. I was committed," she whispered fiercely, "I loved you. But I loved him, too. And I couldn't let you kill him. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for. I put that behind me a long time ago. You went with your heart and I can't blame you that."

"I feel like I'm falling," she told him, without meeting his gaze, "only this time I can breathe and I don't know what's below me."

This so captured Norrington's own feelings that he could only stare.

"I wait to wake up, but I never do, I just keep falling. I think I know where I'm going to land, and I don't know if I like it. Sometimes I wish I could just keep falling and never have to decide."

This statement was oddly chilling, though Norrington couldn't say exactly why. Elizabeth continued to talk to the sea, facing away.

"Being in love can be a terrible thing. There is no excuse that can mend a broken heart. I hate this. I hate having to decide, again. I thought all this was over. I wish...I wish it would be somehow decided for me!" She shivered and turned around. "Is that wrong?"

All Norrington could find to say was, "No."

She turned unhappily back to the black ocean parting silkily around the cutwater, rippling and glittering in the moonlight. "My world keeps being upended. I already made this choice, I shouldn't have to again! What world made such a thing a mistake? Why couldn't everything just stay in place? I'm tired of what-ifs and if-I-hadn'ts!"

He did not even think she was talking to him anymore, more ranting to herself. He watched in silent pity, wondering how that must feel and filled with a hidden dread. He thought he understood where she was going with this. She was telling him that by the end of the night, he might have lost her again, forever. This should have sent a jolt of panic through his frame, but he merely felt...weary. He was afraid, terrified really, that he was going to lose her tonight, and yet...he wasn't scared of the night or her choice. Elizabeth had wavered like a compass on a magnet for too long for her feelings to frighten him. He knew that she would choose again, for what he hoped was the last time, and the thought only tired him, bred weariness in his bones. He wanted it over and done and decided. It was the emptiness that invited madness when the lonesomeness invaded that frightened him. He did not want to be alone, he did not want to lose her. But he wanted a choice, a clear door he could walk to, and for once know what was below his feet. Rather she shut him in the cold than leave him circling like a bird with nowhere to land, lost in his own feelings, rather she break him, than dance for him just out of reach. And if she did choose him, he wasn't going to take his eyes or his hands off of her for the rest of his life.

"I shouldn't have to rely on a piece of junk compass to tell me my feelings!" Abruptly, she calmed. "And I'm not going to," she decided softly. "I make my choices alone. And in the end, I'll land somewhere. Somewhere I want to be."

Norrington bit his lip, unable to say what he so desperately wanted to. _Kiss me,_ he thought at her, _kiss me, please, before I lose you forever, just kiss me once more and tell me you love me and then take me or break me, but decide now. And kiss me...just one more time._

Elizabeth turned around and seemed to hear his thoughts, or maybe it was only the tempo of his breathing, the expression on his face. "Whatever happens, I will always love you, James." She took his hands, uncaring of the pirates watching them and looked up into his eyes. "Tell me you know that."

"I do."

And she kissed him, kissed him like she would never feel anything again, and he clutched her close, ignoring the wild, painful hammering of his heart, concentrating on the acid of this kiss, the feel of her smooth lips, the way she held him, because nothing was certain, and nothing was decided, and he didn't know if he would ever kiss her again. They broke away and Norrington hugged her tightly, everything in him screaming not to let her go. But he did, he had to, as they glided up against _The Black Pearl_'s dark hull, Seren's ship cruising up alongside.

The crew on the _Pearl_ watched them with unimpressed curiosity and Marty leaned over to shout, "Tell your captain the Court started ten minutes ago and he's late!"

"I am the Captain!" Elizabeth yelled back, then dashed off to see to a gangplank, ordering men left and right. As soon as they came close enough to the dock, she leaped stately down the plank. She paused to smile nervously up at Norrington, then stalked off with perfect, unhurried grace followed by Tai Huang. Norrington watched her until she vanished into darkness, then spun to the watching men, wiping all emotion off of his face.

"Snap to and get this vessel squared away, now!" he ordered in his coldest command voice, "Who is in command under Tai Huang?"

A man raised his hand, while the rest of the crew looked on with wary dislike.

"You will assign a contingent of men to remain with the ship, the rest may go ashore. Understand?"

"Aye, sir."

A man shouted a translation of Norrington's words at the men, and they bustled into motion, eager to get ashore.

A high, clear voice rang out over the water and Norrington glanced over to see Seren striding back and forth under the lamps, bellowing orders. She spared him a glance and a smile, then returned to her work. Sighing, Norrington ensured the ship was in full order, then led the group of men ashore, threatening dire consequences if they did not return under his breath that he knew they wouldn't have understood anyway. _And now we wait._ He watched them scatter with irritation then started as someone materialized beside him. It was Seren.

"Come, have a drink with me?" she offered. "They might take hours," she added when he hesitated. "The ship ain't goin' nowhere." She flashed another blinding smile at him and he found himself shrugging and following her. Hell, why not? He was a pirate now. The same rules that once applied to him no longer did. What else was he going to do?

Seren led him aboard her vessel, bade him wait while she gathered enough alcohol to float a small armada, two glasses, and trooped back off the ship. He stepped behind her as she sailor-walked her way along the shore past several ships whose captains she hailed with a cheery greeting and finally threw herself down on a small knoll of grass on the beach. She dug a small depression for her glass in the sand, poured a measure of amber liquid into it and his, and raised her glass.

"And what shall we drink to?"

Norrington smiled. "That the whole bloody armada sinks?" he suggested.

Seren cracked a grin. "Aye, and sends 'em all to Davy Jones!" She knocked her glass against his and gulped breathlessly at the Rum inside. Norrington shook his head, and did likewise.

"Though," Seren pointed out, gesturing with the glass, "Then we'd miss all the fun."

"If a massacre be called fun."

Seren peered at him curiously. "What kin'a attitude be that? But as I said, I'm Captain Seren."

Norrington held out his hand and she took it. "James Norrington."

"No rank? Or are ye just there fer good Captain Swann? You and her, ay?"

Norrington sighed. "Not exactly."

Seren cocked one bright blue eye his way, obviously intrigued. "Di'n't look that way to me."

"She has to choose between myself and another," Norrington told her, wondering why he was explaining this to a complete stranger.

"Ah," said Seren wisely. "An' who be the devil that offers such competition?"

"William Turner," Norrington spat sourly, "sails with Sparrow on _The Black Pearl_."

A light leaped into Seren's eyes. "Yes, the _Pearl_. Turner, ay? Would that be Bootstrap's son?"

Norrington looked at her, startled. "You know Turner?"

"Well there be Turner and there be Turner," Seren told him, refilling her glass. "But no," she assured, "Heard of him, aye. I sailed with Captain Jack for me own bit o' time." She gave him a roguish wink. "An' I heard tell that Ol' Bootstrap had a son he left to go a-piratin' with us. Course, I was well an' gone by the time Barbossa led his mutiny and they stuck Bootstrap to the bottom of the ocean, which were a real shame."

"He sails under Jones now."

"Bootstrap?" Seren exclaimed, kicking her legs out in front of her. "Well, I'll be damned. And his boyo's on the _Pearl_?"

Norrington just nodded.

"Now this," Seren told him sternly, "Sounds like it could be a right proper tale, if ye tell it right. How in the devil did Bootstrap's son end up on the _Pearl_, with the girly he fancies Captain of Sao Feng's ship, and where do ye figure in it?"

Norrington stared out at the black ocean. "It's a long story."

"And?" She scooted closer to him in the sand. "How long've you been a pirate?"

Norrington had to smile. "A grand total of two days." He drank from his glass, amusing himself by watching Seren's incredulous eyes through the murky tinge of Rum.

"An' what were ye before that?"

Norrington couldn't help but laugh. "Three days ago, I was a Navy Admiral."

Seren burst out laughing, choking on her drink, and he couldn't help but join her. Maybe it was the Rum, but he felt like for just this once this was someone he didn't have to pretend for, someone he could just be James Norrington around.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?"

"How _the hell_ did ye wind up here?" Seren gasped, swigging at some more Rum.

"Now that," Norrington informed her, "Would be a story." And somehow, he found himself telling her the entire tale, right from the beginning, with finding William Turner adrift at sea to Port Royal and Elizabeth falling off the wall, right down to springing Sao Feng's crew from the brig, though he omitted any romantic references and Seren was smart enough not to ask.

Seren roared with laughter at certain points and clung interestedly to his words the rest of the time. Norrington was not used to being treated like this and he had to remind himself that Seren was not seeing him as he had been, she was seeing the pirate he was now.

"Yer right," she laughed, filling his glass, "that was definitely a story. Navy Admiral...An' to look at ye now...." She lapsed into silence, chuckling softly to herself every once in awhile at some thought or other.

"So this Elizabeth Swann," she ventured after awhile, "it must be hard, for ye, waiting for her to make a decision, one way or 'nother."

Norrington's eyes drifted out over the ocean and he did not say anything, but his silence spoke volumes.

"An' what if she chooses him?" she asked softly.

"I haven't another, if that's what you're asking," Norrington replied slightly stiffly.

This time it was Seren that said nothing, an expression Norrington did not recognize on her face. "Well then," she said lightly after an immeasurable time, slipping her hand over his, "I'll jest have to hope she an' I have different tastes."

Norrington looked at her, finally realizing where she had been going with all these questions. Startled and amazed as he was, he managed to summon a firm, "Captain Seren, please," from somewhere.

She smiled at him wistfully, but did not remove her hand, and after a while, Norrington turned his hand over and took hers. Her hands were calloused but fine boned, delicate almost, and very warm. He relaxed his hand and their knuckles brushed the sand.

He'd had no idea...It wasn't that no women had ever been attracted to him before, but they had been so shy about it, afraid to approach him, frightened by his station and he had politely made it clear that he wasn't interested. This was completely different. This woman was so bold about it that he hadn't even realized what she was about. How strange. Back home, the dainty women who blushed behind fans thought him a good match, maybe handsome, he wouldn't know, impressed by his achievements, while they had accomplished nothing at all but learn to be pretty and sew, though that wasn't really their fault.

But Seren had known nothing about him. This brazen female pirate with the astonishing blue eyes had made advances on him without preamble, thinking him only a pirate under Elizabeth Swann. And worst of all, he didn't know what to do about it.

"So what of you?" he finally composed himself enough to ask. "How did you wind up here?"

Seren looked delighted. "I," she informed him, refilling his glass from a second bottle, and waving her hands dramatically, "was born in a small town in Ireland." Norrington had lost track of how many times she had done this. He considered telling her that it was enough, but he didn't want to offend or interrupt her, so he merely took it with a nod of thanks, accidentally slopping half of it over the side anyway.

"A town of superstition it were, ghost stories and the like. Now me father...aye, he were a strange man, always wardin' off curses, he was, always jumpin' at the slightest sound. He worshiped strange gods nobody knew how to say their names and did strange bloody rituals in the dead of night." She paused to uncork another bottle and add suspense to her tale.

Norrington felt something tap against his leg and glanced down to see an empty bottle rolling on the sand. Strange. How many had they gone through? And where the devil had his glass gone?

Seren proffered the bottle and he took it with a shrug. She tugged the cork out of another with a satisfying 'pop' and continued her story.

"Now, I were never one to believe ghost-stories, but me father...his had an air o' truth to it. Now, 'course, I know all what them Aztec gold is, so I got a fair idee."

Was this supposed to make sense? Norrington wasn't sure.

"...home and he were gone. No loss though. Me moither...she weren't a real likely lass, but she sure could bring in the men. Come to think on it, there's not much chance he were me real father anyway...'Cept, I sorta looked like him, but who do'n't ha' ginger there, eh? Ah, but she di'n't want me to end up..."

Norrington really had no idea what she was talking about by this point. Maybe he would get a better version at a later date.

"...din't do so good there for awhile, an' then!" She sat up so fast he choked. Her voice held a velvet note, and the similarity to a certain pirate disturbed him more than a little. "I met Captain Jack!" She flashed another of her blinding grins and drank sloppily from her glass. "An' I converted to piracy right then an' there."

Norrington wondered vaguely why she hero-worshiped Sparrow, then decided he didn't want to know.

"An' you see me ship, _The Sea Sparrow_, an' me own crew!" She was gesturing in the wrong direction and Norrington wondered if she was aware of that. He swigged from the bottle.

"The _Sea Sparrow_?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

Seren waved that away. "It were a long time ago, Jamie." She ran her thumb over the back of Norrington's hand and he considered whether he should pull away but didn't see how he could without being rude.

"My name...is Admiral Norrington."

Seren flapped at the air and ignored this. "No it's not."

"It is so."

"No, it's not. No more, you're not an admiral!"

"That's not an excuse, Seren."

Seren grinned and tapped one finger against the side of her jaw. "That's Captain Seren, savvy? An' did we need an excuse, love?"

Norrington stood up. "Captain Seren, goodnight." Odd how the ground was not where it was supposed to be. Oh, no, there it was. Somehow, he was flat on his back. That was even odder. Seren's voice drifted from his right.

"Sorry, Admiral. You can't hang a lass for tryin'."

He remembered this strange, familiar feeling. "Tortuga," he mumbled, squinting up at the glimmering opaque entity that swayed benevolently through the clear, dark sky .

"Now there is a place!" Seren exclaimed happily, slopping Rum down her front. "Best place to get in a fight in the whole world! There is never a lack of someone to hit."

"Yes, I know." Those were not good memories. He sat up.

Not too far away, several pirates were roaring with laughter around a huge fire and throwing something at the flames that turned them blue. One of the blue-fire pirates shouted something in an unfamiliar language, adding some very English curses in, and threw his arm around a more-than-willing lady. The two staggered off somewhere, while their former companions helped themselves to their vacated seats by the fire and Rum bottles and began telling a very animated story that might have been quite amusing if Norrington could understand a word they said. The Rum bottle was somehow still in hand so he drank from it and turned back to Seren.

"That's where we were bounded, _The Sea Sparrow_ an' I, before the song were sung. Tortuga, where to spend our ill-gotten gains. You could come with us."

"Sorry, I'm rather attached where I am, _Captain_ Seren."

"There's no call for formality, Mr. Norrington, ye're not in the Navy no more."

"Believe me, Seren, this is not formality." He took another draught, noticing how empty the bottle was becoming.

"Then I shudder t' think how borin' ye must ha' been when ye were a dandy. But ye see, the _Sparrow_ is our own little world to anywhere. Anywhere at all. Nothing will outrun her save her namesake."

"That's because nothing at all will outrun Sparrow, I've proven it myself."

"Hear, hear to that! An' a good thing, too, or we'd all be in a world of trouble! But the invitation still stands."

_You would be,_ Norrington thought, tipping back the bottle, _But I would have my life back. Pirates._ He remembered Elizabeth singing that awful song, how many years ago? Back when she still thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate. Well, she was in a gathering of them. He hoped she was happy. _A short drop and a sudden stop_. How had it ever come to this? He hadn't thought of that stupid song in years, how did it go?

"_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..._" he rambled, remembering suddenly.

"Wha's that?" Seren perked up with interest, cocking her head to one side.

"A song. Something I heard a very long time ago."

"I have to say I heartily concur with the line I just heard. How's the rest of it go?"

"It's been a long time, I don't remember all the verses."

Seren snorted. "Well, it just so happens that you are in need of learning a certain song yourself, Jamie. We'll do a trade."

Had she just called him 'Jamie' again? He couldn't remember. "And what reason would I have for learning a song of yours?"

Seren waved the bottle around her head. "One, you are a pirate and it's in the code that ye have to learn it. Two, this song is what summons the Brethren Court, so don't go singin' it 'less ya mean it, but ye may need it someday. Three, I want to learn your bloody song. An' Five, you'll look terribly stupid when everyone else sings it an' you don't know it. Clear?"

"God forbid that I should look stupid."

"Haha, there's a bit o' it!" A thought occurred to her. "I imagine you can sing, can't you?"

"Fair enough I suppose, though I've never had much call for it." He took a pull from the bottle and paused. "Code? What code?"

"Well o' course, pirates have a code, says what ye can an' ye canno' do, else we woulda killed each other all a long time ago. You think we're entirely lawless?"

_Yes,_ thought Norrington, keeping his thoughts to himself. "The code says I'm to learn it?" he asked skeptically.

"That or I shoot ya. An' I really would prefer the former, not t' mention yer own views on the subject. I never got much lovin' from a dead man."

Norrington sighed, an odd smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Shoot."

Seren frowned. "Aw, come on now, be reasonable!"

Norrington shook his head. "No, no, as in, shoot, teach me the song."

"Ah! Well, here ye are an' ye better uphold your end of the bargain: _The king and his men stole the queen from her bed and bound her in her bones._" Seren really had quite a lovely voice when it came down to it.

And somehow, as he picked up the tune and the new words, James Norrington found himself singing along, several octaves below her and enjoying himself immensely. How strange. But it was only going to get stranger.


	7. Chapter 7 The Opportune Moment

The Choices There To Be Made

(formerly 'Best Mistake I Ever Made')

Fanfiction: Pirates Of The Caribbean: AWE/ AU

Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington, Seren/Norrington if it were up to her

Characters: Norrington, Seren, Elizabeth, Jack!

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean characters, movies nor any nouns or proper nouns associated with such, although Seren and the scene are mine. Please feel free to leave me any feedback and thanks for reading!

Chapter Seven

The Opportune Moment To Drink Rum On The Beach

"..._drink up, me hearties, yo ho_!" Seren giggled.

"No, no, you're doing it wrong!"

"Well, if I'm doin' it wrong, it's yer fault, as yer the one as teachin' me to dance!"

"No, now take my hand, and the other goes on my shoulder – stop that! Your hand goes on my shoulder, and _my_ hand goes on _your_ waist, not the other way around!"

"Don't know why yer teachin' me anyhow. Pirates don't waltz."

"And Navy Admirals don't sing pirate songs either, now do they, Siren? No, wait, I mean, Seren. But it's dead useful. Bet you anything, Sparrow knows how to waltz. No! Not anything! But he probably does. You can use this to impress somebody someday."

"Ye don't seem very impressed, Jamie," she purred.

"Not the way you dance! And I said stop that!"

"Ye know something, Admiral? Ye're not much fun at all."

"You don't find this fun?"

"Not as much as it could be."

"Captain Seren."

"Yes, Admiral?"

"Just dance."

He pulled her around in slow jerky circles, gliding in and out of the puddles of lamplight on the white sand, while she sang snatches of pirate song. "_We plunder, raid an' sack_," she mumbled, "_an'...an'..._ what's that other word? Has t' do with stealin'."

"Pilfering?"

"Tha's it! Filpering! _We filper and ig-nite and something-whatever! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!_"

Norrington laughed, hitching her arm back up to his shoulder. "Most people don't sing while they waltz," he pointed out.

"We're not most people, Jamie."

"You, love, are not even close." Had he just called her love? It both fit and felt strange at the same time.

"..._rampage and char and I-don't-remember! Me hearties, drink up, yo ho!_"

"This isn't supposed to be painful, you know." He winced as her heavy boots came down on his foot again.

"An' what should it be like?"

"Well, for one," he stooped, grabbed her leg while she clung to his shoulder for support, tugged off her boot and threw it into the darkness. "Now you won't keep bloodying up my feet. Take the other one off."

"Ye do it."

"No."

"Ow!" he laughed, hopping in place; she'd kicked him in the shin. "Fine!" He pulled her other boot off and tossed if after the first.

She tried to take off his, but failed to provide any kind of support. They swayed drunkenly, stepping on each other's feet, until finally Norrington staggered backward, kicked his legs until the boots slid off of his feet and fought his way out of his coat. "There. Now get over here."

"Is that a come-hither?"

"No, it most certainly is not!"

"Damn."

"Seren!"

He stepped forward and took her hand. "This is what it's supposed to be like." And he picked her up and spun her around, his feet moving in the patterns of the dance, her arms around his neck, laughing. _"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!_" they both sang loudly and breathlessly, still spinning. And then James collided with an empty bottle and fell flat, dragging Seren with him. For an instant, she stared down at his surprised eyes, inches from her own. And then she kissed him.

A minute or so later, he fell back, gasping for air. "Are you done?" he panted.

"Not in the slightest."

"No!" he growled.

"Jamie..."

Norrington frowned at the woman lying on top of him, her brilliant blue eyes. "Captain Seren, get off of me."

She replied by kissing his chin.

"Seren. Get off."

She snuggled in closer, fitting her curves to his. Norrington thought he was going to have a heart attack. "Off," he ordered, voice breaking, "Now!" But Seren was fully aware of her considerable powers and she just pushed closer and listened to his frantic heartbeat speed.

No. He would not. Norrington gritted his teeth and stared straight into her eyes, ignoring the commands his body was sending him, hearing himself say, "Seren, you are without doubt one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, but I am in love. Not with you. Get off of me or I'm going to shove you off."

With slow, injured, unhurried dignity, Seren slid off of him and he fell back with a faint groan, trying to reclaim the breath she'd stolen. He tasted blood and realized that Seren must have torn open the cut on her lip when she kissed him. That was uncomfortably bizarre, to have her blood in his mouth, and he ran his tongue across his lips, trying to rid himself of the taste. When he finally sat up, she was sitting quite innocently a few feet away with her legs crossed, smiling at him and wiggling her toes in the sand.

"Ya know Jamie, yer not really any fun at all."

"Be glad I'm not," he retorted darkly, fumbling around for the Rum bottle. "I'd kill you myself when I was sober."

"Then we'll have to keep ya drunk," giggled Seren, rolling the bottle across the beach toward him.

Norrington took it and rose grandly to his feet, slightly marred by his stagger. He poured some more Rum down his throat. "Don't be difficult," he decided.

"Then come sing some more with the most beautiful woman in the world!" Seren slurred, spraying droplets of Rum through the air, "Ye can't turn down a lady a dance!"

"But only a dance," he told her in what he imagined was a firm tone of voice, missing his mouth with the Rum bottle.

Seren grabbed his arm and dragged him around in a circle after her, singing loudly and off-key, "_Extort and filper and murder and burn, drink up, me hearties, yo ho!"_

_"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me,_" he replied, laughing, stumbling over things he couldn't see in the dark. "Ow! Ouch, no, stop!" He sat down rather abruptly and Seren collapsed beside him. Norrington held up bloody fingers and peered at them.

"Wha'd ye do?"

"Cut my foot." How had he done that? Oh, wait, he'd stepped on a bottle, hadn't he?

"Hmm," Seren studied the short slice across the side of his foot. Then she dipped her fingers in the blood pooling across his skin and smeared it across the side of his face. As an afterthought, she licked her fingers.

"What?"

"There. Very piratey looking." She daubed some more clumsily down his cheekbone. "An' as ye tasted my blood, it's on'y fair I should taste yourn. Ye taste sweet. We're proper cannibals now."

"Wouldn't want to be ungenuine. Here," he swung at her with his bloody fingers and she dodged back, giggling and cursing. "Heaven help should a Navy Admiral be more piratey in appearance than you. Hold still." Seren leaned forward and he painted crooked dark lines across her cheeks and forehead. "More than lovely, I'm sure."

Seren leaned in, grinning with bloody lips. "Ye taste very sweet," she repeated, drawing the words out with each sultry, Rum-soaked breath. "But yer lips are much sweeter. Ye sure Seren can't have another taste?"

"Yes. I mean, no. With no meaning, yes, I'm sure that you can't."

Seren frowned, sorting out this rather garbled sentence for a second. "Yer sure that yer sure?" she crooned, tilting her head so that she peered up at him, her face gracefully painted in the moonlight, "Sounds like ye need some persuasion."

James blinked. Her sapphire eyes were floating dreamily in her freckled face, her lopsided smile hovering before his own. "No," he whispered, "I don't."

….....................................................

Elizabeth sighed. It had been a very trying night. "...don't know, Jack. We did make the right choice...didn't we?"

"Love," Jack told her, painting the warm night air with his hands, "no use reflecting on choices made, after you've made them. Done is done, and if we all die tomorrow, we'll have more than enough time to think on it then."

"I know, but-" She stopped, frowning. "Did you hear that?"

…..........................................

Seren's lips melted into his and he tasted the copper of her blood, her Rum-breath catching in his throat. He closed his eyes, struggling with himself, while her mouth moved over his, smearing crimson across his skin.

"Seren," he mumbled, pulling away, "Stop." Her lips closed over his again, and he drew back weakly. "No, Seren, stop...mm."

His hand was on her shoulder, he did not know how, his body bent as he leaned over her, propped on her elbow on the sand, kissing her.

"James..."

"Ah...No, Seren..." He dragged himself away, although it caused him physical pain, but she pushed him back down, taking his lips as though there had been no interruption.

"Mm, Seren...please..." He couldn't think past her bloody-Rum kisses, the alcoholic fog in his brain. It would be so easy to slip, to forget, to surrender to the insensibility...But he wouldn't.

"Stop!" He wrenched himself away, fumbling sideways over the sand, ready to fend her off again, but this time, she didn't follow. She stared at him, her chest heaving under her tattered coat, and then a bizarre smile spread across her scarlet-smeared lips, her head twisting to one side.

"Ye really are hard t' get, aren't ye?"

Norrington struggled to control the wild gasping of his lungs and formulate a reply. "Stop...this...Please."

"Is tha' what ye really want?" she asked softly, curiously, taking a pull from the Rum bottle.

"No," he admitted honestly, "but that's what I'll want in the morning, and that's how it has to be."

"An' what if what's-her-name goes off with him?"

Norrington looked away. There was a long silence.

"A'right," Seren declared, and there was a completely different note in her voice, a light, teasing warmth. "Friends for now, it is then. I can wait." And she upended the last of her Rum onto the wound on his foot. James yelped at the burn and Seren roared with laughter.

"I'll have you know," he declared, scrambling to his feet and fumbling for his sword, humor returned.

"Aye?"

"That...that...injuries! received in the service demand due recompense!"

"Then ha' some more Rum, love, and dance with me!"

…...............................................

Jack lifted an eyebrow. The night around them was filled with sound; men making ready for the coming battle, a great deal of drinking, ship noise, singing, laughing, shouting and gunshots. Very much like Tortuga, only spread out over a broader space.

"Which cacophonous calamity were we referring to?"

"I thought...I heard..."

Down on the beach, someone was singing loudly. Two someones in fact, on completely different octaves and notes.

Elizabeth squinted in that direction.

"Oy, I know that wondrous song!" Jack realized, "We both know that song."

"And...I know that voice," Elizabeth murmured, incredulity on her face. She strode off through the darkness curiously and Jack decided to follow.

….......................................................

"..._and don't give a hoot, drink up, me hearties, yo ho!_" Norrington was running out of breath. "Very good," he told Seren, guiding her in one more endless circle, "You've only stepped on my feet thrice in the last five minutes. I'm beginning to have faith in you."

"Ye'll be the first. It's a bit like swordfighting: yer bad until yer good."

"Yes, now faster, this is not a slow song, no, step like _that_, and around...._Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!_"

Seren threw her arms around his neck and joined him, half-shouting, "_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!_"

Norrington kicked out his legs, laughing, and stumbled, falling into Seren's arms. She caught him by sheer luck and he pulled himself up, put his arms around her waist and continued to sing.

"_We plunder and burn and silch and fack_...Good God, what am I saying?"

"Tha's not very proper, Jamie!"

"Because you're so very society, Siren love. Now, turn again! Ouch, oh, sorry..._We burn up the city, we're really a fright, drink up, me hearties, yo ho! Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!_"

Norrington took a hearty swig of Rum that he could no longer taste and pushed the bottle at Seren. She pulled one arm off of his neck to take it and both fumbled the bottle and stepped on his foot at the same time. Rum splashed across both of their chests, sticking their shirts to the skin, before Norrington grabbed the bottle, knocking Seren off balance. He retrieved her by the sleeve of her vest, drained the remainder, ("Before you pour the rest of it across your breasts. I swear you did it on purpose,") and launched back into the song.

* * *

…....................................................

Elizabeth could only stand and gape.

"I always did say you should get him drunk," Jack commented, coming up behind her, "Could have saved us loads of trouble."

"I-I don't believe it." And abruptly she was laughing, watching James...well, it couldn't really be called dancing.

One hand was propped on Seren's hip, the other gripped a bottle of amber liquid that was fast disappearing. Seren had her arms sprawled across the tops of his shoulders, clutching handfuls of his shirt to keep from falling down. They were spinning in dizzying circles and singing at the top of their lungs.

She almost didn't want to interrupt. As they watched, the two spun apart, clutching their sides from laughing, bare feet flying as Norrington chased Seren in a circle. There was something...magical? about this that Elizabeth didn't want to ruin with her presence. There was so much laughter in his eyes, his shirt sticking to his chest with Rum and sweat, dark hair flying about his face, as they sailed through another rendition of the song, their hands joined, tilting in haphazard circles. But then Seren hauled him in closer, cupping his face in her hands, laughing and Elizabeth stiffened. Alright, maybe she did want to interrupt. But James leaned backwards drunkenly, averting his head, Seren did not pursue him and Elizabeth didn't know whether to be relieved or exasperated. Good Lord, the man was a saint!

"...so we of course gave the order," Norrington was saying, neatly dodging another kiss, "but chickens! All over the entire ship!" He seemed to be having difficulty breathing past the laughter in his throat.

"Captain Seren came fully armed," Jack muttered behind Elizabeth, startling her from the strange scene below. He waved an almost-full bottle at her, a second cradled in the crook of his arm.

"You know her?"

Jack smiled at some private memory. "Aye, she had the honor of serving under me on _The Pearl_. And thus I had the great honor of having a ship named after me."

"After you?"

"Don't sound so surprised, darling. _The Sea Sparrow_. Good name. Good ship." He passed the bottle to Elizabeth.

"Jack. We're fighting almost the entire Royal Navy tomorrow, I do not think drinking is a good idea."

Jack tugged the cork out of a bottle and drained at it. "Didn't stop him. And such occasions are almost always dealt with best when a few sheets to the wind."

"I'm the pirate king."

"An' that automatically blacklists you with any crime any pirate has ever committed. You are the dirty rascal's king. Take my advice, love: not only when in Rome, but try a few of the sins they insist on hanging around your neck. It's extremely liberating to know you're not actually guilty of them, as it's their fault you tried them in the first place. I mean, no sense dying for something you didn't actually enjoy, what? We can't have a pirate king who's only been drunk once."

Elizabeth opened her mouth, but found no suitable reply. With a resigned sigh, she uncorked the bottle and took a long swallow.

"Only James could find a way to waltz to this song."

"On contrary, love. I know how to waltz very well. You just have to tailor the song a little, to fit the three-count."

"You?"

Jack waved his arms, looking offended. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, of course I know how to waltz." He held out his hands in invitation.

Elizabeth eyed him skeptically. "Jack, no, I'm not going-"

"You're telling me you didn't enjoy the last time you danced with dear ol' Jack?" There was a smoldering look in his eyes. He tossed back another swallow of Rum.

"We were marooned."

"Then close your eyes, darling, and pretend there's no one here."

Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment, then took another mouthful of Rum and closed her eyes. She heard his feet in the sand, and then he was right in front of her, his warm breath against her face. He jangled slightly when he moved from all the trinkets, but it still took her by surprise when the cool glass of the Rum bottle and the warm hand that held it bumped against her hip, his calloused hand twining over her fingers. She took his hand, unable to stop herself from exploring the strange twisted rings on his fingers, took another swig of Rum, and draped her left arm, bottle and all over his shoulder.

"That's it, love," he heard him whisper, and then, suddenly, his feet were moving and she opened her eyes as he guided her across the moonlit beach with a sure touch. It was unlike any dance she had ever had. His confident hands led her without a stumble in graceful circles, his lithe body seeming to float in the darkness, his gold teeth glittering as he smiled. He quickened the pace until her feet seemed to fly above the sand as he pulled her toward him, pushed her back away, leading her around again without a falter, the sand shuffling beneath their feet. And then he began to hum in a sultry voice, matching the timing of the notes to their revolutions, guiding her through the familiar motions with panther grace. She hummed with him, a grin she couldn't help decorating her lips, feeling faintly drunk and dizzy, though she hadn't had near enough to drink. The stars floated by over head, and wild gunshots rolled out over the town of Shipwreck like defiant thunder.

"That's it, Lizzy, only don't be burning the Rum this time."

She laughed, pulling her arm off of his shoulder to toss some of said drink down her throat.

"Pirate kings don't burn Rum, Jack, it's against the Code."

"Then we should've made you king a long time ago. Let's hear you sing, you sound so much better than those drunken sods over there."

"Jack..."

"We're marooned, remember? There's no one to hear you at all. Besides," he whispered conspiratorially, "It's high time we had a pirate king what could sing."

"Oh, alright." They waltzed for a moment more, watching the oblivious ex-Admiral and she-pirate captain stagger about, laughing and singing. When they reached the beginning of a verse, Elizabeth took over, lending her sweet voice to the rough words, "_We pillage and plunder and rifle and loot, drink up, me hearties, yo ho!"_

Jack took a pull on the bottle and joined her, singing, "_We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot, drink up, me hearties, yo ho!"_

For a moment, all four pirates were singing together, "_Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!_"

And then Norrington pivoted, still clutching Seren to his chest and half-bowed, almost falling over. "Elizabeth!" He stopped dancing and dragged Seren after him.

"You're drunk!" Elizabeth exclaimed in amused astonishment.

"Took us long enough! Dance with me?"

Elizabeth stepped away from Jack. "No, really, I didn't intend-"

But he had released the giggling Seren and staggered forward and suddenly, Elizabeth found one of his hands on her hip, the other in hers.

"Oh!" she cried, startled. "James, no, I'm not going to-"

"You'll dance with Sparrow, but not with me? I know you know how, I've danced with you before."

"Yes, but that was hardly-"

"It is, after all, your song."

"It is not my song!"

"No, you're right," James recalled dryly, "my commanding officer taught it to me."

"Really, James..."

"Drink some of that," Norrington advised, pointing at the bottle she held, "and get back to me, preferably when you're Elizabeth rather than Miss Swann." He dropped his hands, gazed wistfully and a little foggily at her, then looked around. "Ser-Sir...Siren? Seren?" Norrington frowned at a bewildered Elizabeth and tried again. "Sieran love, she won't dance!"

Seren came dashing by, looped his arm and dragged him off into some sort of madman's jig. "Well I most certainly will!"

"If you have ever entertained in the slightest a dream of dancing on a beach with a drunken former Admiral," Jack told Elizabeth, peering at her critically, "then this would be your opportune moment."

Elizabeth watched them with longing, half wishing she could run out there and join them. "I would need a lot more Rum," she decided.

"Well, you better hurry up, they're drinking it all, and I think your ex-ComoAdmiral-whatever is nearing passing out."

Elizabeth slugged at the Rum, then glanced between them, clearly torn. Something James had said came back to her all of a sudden; '_I am extremely jealous of the fact that Sparrow spent an entire day and night drinking Rum on the beach with you, something I can never do, I am afraid that I am going to lose you as soon as we set foot in Shipwreck Cove, and I am ashamed of myself.'_ Jealous, was he? He wanted to drink Rum on the beach, did he?

"Who's to see, Elizabeth? They're all drunker than you are. I shan't tell a soul," Jack vowed securing the matter. Elizabeth had the sudden strange idea that Jack secretly wanted to see Norrington get the girl.

"Not even Will?"

"Not even your bonny Will."

* * *

"If anyone asks," Elizabeth told him, tugging off her boots and shedding her coat, "I was drunk." And then she dashed out across the beach, laughing and kicking up sand. 


End file.
